Wolves
by RaysenTra
Summary: Sequel to 'Destiny'. Two months after Angel confronted the Senior Partners, Wesley, Spike and Illyria find themselves back in L.A. just as Lindsey McDonald appoints himself CEO of Wolfram & Hart. Xx STORY COMPLETE xX
1. Working out the bugs

Chapter I: Working out the bugs.  
  
The depths hide many secrets. Under the water, in the deepest crevices of the Earth, creatures unimaginable flow through it freely, dwelling in the dark, preying on the weak. These creatures adapt to the darkness, creating ways to survive without light. Some of them achieve this by creating their own light, others by keeping to the ground and waiting for "dinner" to pass them by. The depths of L.A. aren't all that different. Demons prey on weak passer by's. Vampire's nest and hunt through the night for helpless victims. They adapt. They survive.  
  
L.A. was a city without heroes. Five years ago, one came, and the city was protected. Hell, fire and brimstone befell its skyline, but he and his where there, to ensure that the good fight was being fought. Yet, two months have passed since the greatest battle that land and the rest of the World had seen in millennia was fought. The denizens of Earth work towards reconstruction, trying to piece together their lives. Human beings are very strong creatures. Their strength and resilience is what allowed them to inherit this World. But like all creatures, they are flawed. They kill and hurt each other, disregarding the value of life. L.A. is once again a city without a hero. Their champion vanished, and they are left to fare for themselves.  
  
In the depths of L.A. a ceremony takes place with the intent to appease the masters of the World. Five black-hooded half-breeds stand in a circle honoring the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart. In the center of the black circle a young woman lies tied. She has been bathed in blood, and the vampires chant around her, waiting for the moment to make the final cut. The ceremony is an act. They hope that it will bring them more power, or perhaps that it will align them with those that hold the power. The chamber hums with their incessant chatter.  
  
From the shadows, hunters peek. They see them and their attempt at glory and are not impressed. A white hooded vampire approaches the sacrifice. It mutters words in Latin, while retrieving a large dagger from a nearby vamp. He leans towards the girl and prepares to lunge the weapon into her.  
  
Priest: (caresses the girls face) "Just know..." (lifts the dagger in the air) "that your blood will provide gods with power."  
  
Illyria: (from behind) "You will not harm this girl."  
  
The hooded vampires turn in shock towards her. The priest lets go of the young sacrificial lamb and walks towards Illyria. He stares her down fascinated by her.  
  
Priest: (sniff's her out) "You, you smell... old."  
  
Illyria: "You will release her."  
  
Priest: (chuckles) "I'm afraid I won't. This girl's blood will serve as nourishment to those who are masters of this World. We are their servants and anxiously await their return."  
  
He pauses. Illyria looks at him then at the girl.  
  
Priest: (cont.) "What makes you think that we will let go of such a precious commodity?"  
  
His expression suddenly turns cold with dread. His limbs begin to tremble as his body turns to ashes, his head dropping at his disintegrating feet. A sleek metallic disc ricochets from the wall and falls to the ground, spinning in its place.  
  
Spike: (walking out of the shadows, sword in hand) "Call it women's intuition, ponce."  
  
The vampires attack. Spike runs at them swinging his sword, drawing blood from their bodies. Illyria tosses two of them against the walls and rams their heads together. From behind her another one approaches holding the sacrificial dagger in his hand. Spike sees this, but, before he can react, the vampire screams in pain and his body turns to ashes. An arrow drops to the ground where the vampire had stood.  
  
Wes draws his wrist-sword and thrusts against an opposing vamp, slashing his chest and turn-kicking his stomach. The vamp rolls with the kick and jumps right again to his feet. Wes slashes again with his sword, but the vamp dodges every incoming attack. After several attempts at harming it Wes, takes out a small bottle of Holy Water and smashes it against the vamps head, causing it to collapse in pain. Wes walks over to him, retracts his wrist sword and grabs him by the neck. He picks him up, pulls out a stake from his left sleeve and stakes him in the heart.  
  
Spike: (chuckles) "Whoo! That was bracing."  
  
Wes: "Yes" (walks over to the girl) "I believe it was."  
  
He releases her from her confines and helps her stand up to her feet.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "Are you alright?"  
  
Girl: "I, I... oh, God, they--"  
  
Wes: (with a shy smile) "It's alright now."  
  
Wes tends to her while Spike picks up the remains of their weapons. He stands over the disc and picks it up. He turns around and throws it against another vampire sneaking behind Illyria. Wes turns around just in time to see its body turn to dust.  
  
Wes: (to Spike) "Good move."  
  
Spike: "Thanks." (to Illyria) "You okay, luv?"  
  
Illyria: "I... thank you for your assistance."  
  
Spike: "Well, what's a pet to his master if he doesn't protect her from time to time?"  
  
Illyria stares at him with uncertainty.  
  
Spike: "Uch, buy a sense of humor, majesty. You really need it." (turns to Wes) "Hey, Percy!"  
  
Wes: (walking the girl out of the sewer temple) "We're leaving. Nothing else to fight for tonight."  
  
They all walk away from the sacrificial area hidden beneath the depths. They have been together for almost a month now after the cataclysmic events that took place nigh two ago. Wes had been offered a place as a Watcher stationed in England, alongside Rupert Giles and his father, Roger Wyndham- Pryce, but he had refused it. Life on L.A. had meant tragedy and defeat to him, but it was what kept him alive, kept him fighting. He could never abandon the fight.  
  
The regroup on Wes' old apartment. They walk in and Spike let's himself fall on the couch. Illyria walks towards the window and just stares quietly into the dark. Wes takes off his jacket and wrist weapons and sets them on top of the dinner table. He opens the fridge and takes out a beer.  
  
Wes: "Spike?"  
  
Spike: (taking of his jacket) "Yep."  
  
Wes hands him the beer. He walks again back to the fridge and takes out a cartridge of orange juice. He opens it and drinks it down. He walks over to the couch and sits beside Spike. They remain awkwardly quiet. Wes looks at Illyria.  
  
Wes: "Do you need anything?"  
  
She doesn't respond.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "Illyria?"  
  
She's startled, and turns her gaze towards him. He stares at her eyes for a couple of seconds until she slowly turns her stare back at the stars.  
  
Wes: "We should rest up for tomorrow's rounds."  
  
Spike: "Res-- Oh, um, yeah." (takes a deep breath)  
  
Wes: "Look, Spike, I know this transition hasn't been easy, but--"  
  
Spike: "You don't have to explain. I know you're doing the best you can in this situation, but.... I just don't see things improving" (takes a big gulp from his beer).  
  
Wes: "Yes, I suppose things will not be improving anytime soon. Hopefully our workload will be less after..."  
  
Spike: (stares intently at him) "He's not coming back (drinks from his beer again). He went to give his respects to the porcelain god and never came out. Whatever happened to him.... if he were to come back..."  
  
Wes: (interrupts) "... he would've done so already." (pauses) "I know."  
  
They stare at nothing for what seems like hours. After a while Spike picks up his coat and leaves for his apartment. Dawn approaches and he wants to rest. Illyria doesn't move from the window. She stares into the infinite darkness, disregarding everything that goes around her. The sound a fly makes when it flies by. The continuous dripping from the kitchen sink faucet. The way sound waves carry from inside the bedroom. She stares into the dark. Nothing bothers the King. She is at peace.  
  
Wesley Wyndham-Pryce is lying in his bed. He stares at the ceiling, reminiscing on memories long past. He tries to get some sleep but he just keeps turning in his bed.  
  
Angel: "Long day, huh?"  
  
Wes: (sits up in his bed) "Yes, it was."  
  
Angel: "Yeah, well that's how our life is. Work."  
  
Wes: (chuckles) "Yes, I have to admit it is."  
  
Angel: "Been awhile, though, since we talked. Things were so easy when we were all a family."  
  
Wes nods with a shy smile.  
  
Angel: (cont.) "How's Fred?"  
  
Wes looks to his side and sees Fred sleeping by his side. She moans quietly as she turns and cuddles with him. He stares at her for awhile and then looks up at Angel, who's smiling.  
  
Angel: "I'm glad everything worked out for the best."  
  
Wes: "Yes," (looks over at her again) "glad." (he smiles widely) "And, um, how have you been?"  
  
Angel: "Still dead. I hear there's no cure for that."  
  
Wes: "Well, that's a shame. Want some coffee?"  
  
Angel: "Nah, don't want to interrupt you. You... have to take care of your wife. She's.... an amazing woman. You're very lucky."  
  
Wes: (his expression turns cold) "Yes, I suppose I am." (he plays with her hair and then turns back to Angel).  
  
Angel: "Wheel keeps turning Wes."  
  
Wes: "Y-- yes. It does..... doesn't it?"  
  
Wes looks at Angel but he's gone. His breath accelerates. His palms are sweaty and his vision gets blurred. He tries standing up but his feet are numb. He looks at the bed-sheets and they are stained with blood, coming out of his stomach. He tries to speak but life pours out of his mouth. Wes turns to Fred and finds her staring at him. Her rotten body covered in blood, maggots coming out of her ears and nostrils. Her eyes are pasty white. They stare at him coldly. She raises her arm, trying to touch his face when he falls right beside her. She puts her arms around him as he gasps for air.  
  
Fred: "Wesley, my sweet Wesley." (giggles) "I love you."  
  
He opens his eyes. He stares at the window and takes in deep breaths. He stands up and walks outside. Illyria is still looking at the stars. She turns her head and looks at him without saying anything. Wes stands still and stares deep into her gaze. They are two very different creatures. They have lost everything that is dear to them, yet they are compelled to move on, relying on one another.  
  
The night fades into light. The day starts the same as always. L.A. has its heroes. They did not leave, and they will not fade away. They cling to what they have lost, yet they fight for the hope of a better future. Because that is all they can do.  
  
-- Teleute. 


	2. Points for redemption

Chapter II: Points for redemption.  
  
Two months ago: Watcher's Council- England.  
  
The sky is dark. Rupert Giles is at his office, drinking shot after shot of Scotch. He takes off his glasses and turns around and turns on a small CD player on his bookshelf. He picks up a CD case the reads "Mozart Collection". He sets it down on his desk and drinks the last drops left on his glass. He stands up, record still playing in the background, and he walks towards the window. He looks outside, pondering on recent events, and lets the music work its charm.  
  
Xander: (opens the door) "Busy?"  
  
Giles: "Mm? Oh, sorry. I was just" (stops the record with a remote) "um... what is it Xander?"  
  
Xander: "Uh, nothing really. Just wanted to get away from the craziness outside, before it gets me."  
  
Giles: "Yes, well," (walks over to his desk) "we all need a break from this. Angel's coup gave us plenty to work with" (sits on his chair and puts his glasses back on), "ahem to say the least."  
  
Xander: "Mmm. You would think that waging war against the ultimate evil would only last the usual two, three days, huh?" (pauses for a bit) "Not so much."  
  
Giles: (smiles) "Yes, well, we're not dealing with demon-robot hybrids anymore, Xander. It's only natural that things would turn up this.... badly."  
  
They sit quietly for a while. Giles tends to several files and books laid out on his desk while Xander peruses the bookshelves. After a while he sits back down on his seat.  
  
Xander: "Any word from the Buffster?"  
  
Giles: (looks up from the book he was reading) "Uh?"  
  
Xander: (leans forward) "Word. Buffy. From.... in the middle."  
  
Giles: "No, Xander." (looks down at the book) "Nothing yet."  
  
Xander: "Guess, it's finally coming down, isn't it?"  
  
Giles: (he leans back on his chair and takes off his glasses again) "Yes, it is. All my sources say the same thing. Things were quiet until just a couple of hours ago." (pauses) "Apparently an enormous amount of demonic activity was detected in downtown Los Angeles. We haven't been able to locate the source yet. The only thing we are certain of is that it keeps... growing."  
  
Xander: (ponders on those words for a couple of seconds) "Those aren't odds I'd play. When was the last time your sources checked?"  
  
Giles: (holding his glasses in his mouth) "Hour ago."  
  
Xander leans forward on his seat. He fears the worst may come to pass, yet he remains calm. He has seen many battles and he understands the casualties of war. He bites his nails, while Giles reads from the large book.  
  
Giles: "Wesley."  
  
Xander: (slightly startled) "Uh?"  
  
Giles: "How is Wesley?"  
  
Xander: "Still pretty much beat up. That big guy really let it loose on him."  
  
Giles: "Yes. He really did, did he?"  
  
Xander: "What do you mean?"  
  
Giles: "He came here, left a significant amount of bodies and then, from the looks of it, threw Wesley all the way into the infirmary."  
  
Xander: "Somehow I see a 'but' coming on."  
  
Giles looks at him disoriented. Xander raises his right eyebrow as in response.  
  
Giles: "Yes, um, but.... why didn't he take the template?"  
  
Xander: "You mean to tell me that even with your keen Super-Watcher skills of deduction you came to notice that now?"  
  
Giles looks at him undignified.  
  
Xander: (cont.) "Giles, I'm only half-blind."  
  
Giles: (sarcastic) "Yes, of course. Thank you for the wonderful insight, Xander."  
  
Xander: "No problem, big guy."  
  
Giles: "Putting a brave face, are you?"  
  
Xander: (chuckles) "Yeah. How did you know?"  
  
Giles: "The eye patch gave it away."  
  
He stares at Xander whose expression quickly turns cold with worry.  
  
Giles: (cont.) "They're going to be fine. Buffy and Willow are extraordinary women. They know how to take care of themselves. And Angel and Spike--"  
  
Xander: (interrupts) "Spike." (chuckles) "Huh."  
  
Giles: "What about him?"  
  
Xander: "Ever... ever since he talked to Buffy I've barely heard her utter a coherent word, much less a phrase. If we were talking about somebody like Oz, then I wouldn't worry. He's laconic. There's not much that you can get out of the guy. But Buffy--"  
  
Giles: (interrupts) "She's still dealing, Xander. I can't imagine it to be easy for a person to watch a loved one sacrifice himself and then appear casually from out of nowhere as good as new."  
  
Xander: "I just don't think that's it. The guy didn't call her. He couldn't even write her a letter... for a year. I don't care how scared you are, you let her know. It's just plain common sense."  
  
Giles: (serving himself another glass of scotch) "Are you sure you're not just saying this because you don't like him?"  
  
Xander: "Well, I admit of not losing any sleep over his dying and all, but he did get points for redemption, I'll give him that."  
  
Giles: (sarcastically) "Oh, I'm sure he did." (drinks from his refill and sets it on the desk) "But, I see your point. I'm afraid that Spike's presence may cause Buffy to lose focus, due to the circumstances that they've been together. Particularly those that happened lately."  
  
Xander: "Especially lately."  
  
Giles: (cont.) "Regardless the situation, Buffy is quite capable. I don't think it will be a negative factor. If anything she is far more driven by emotions than anyone I know." (he pauses for a bit) "I just ahem wish we knew more."  
  
Giles puts his glasses back on. He turns his chair towards the window. Xander reclines against the back of his chair and looks outside as well. The night sky looks particularly peaceful, and they take the moment to reflect:  
  
Giles: "Want a drink?"  
  
Xander: "Not so much."  
  
It's nearly 2 am in Los Angeles. She circles the stairwell on the roof touching its walls, occasionally scratching her red fingernails against the rough surface just to make noise. She repeats the same walking pattern she created when she first started circling it. Step by step, she follows it religiously.  
  
The wind blows and it tosses her brown hair. She suddenly stops. She pays attention to the sound of the wind. She calmly walks towards the edge of building and reclines against the hard rock that circles the building. She puts her leather-covered hand against it as if trying to get a response from the concrete. To any casual observer she may just be reflecting on events long past, but to him she's probably just listening to the buzzing sound an atom makes as its little planets circle around its sun.  
  
Wes: "Does it seem bigger now?"  
  
Illyria: (looking at the L.A. skyline) "Perhaps. I... I don't know."  
  
Wes walks towards her. He stands beside her and tucks his arms inside his jacket.  
  
Wes: "Cold night."  
  
Illyria looks at him.  
  
Wes: "I suppose temperature isn't a factor to you, am I right?"  
  
Illyria: "No" (looks back at the sky), "it isn't."  
  
Wes: "What are you doing up here?"  
  
Illyria: "I wanted to see. Everything here is more--"  
  
Wes: (interrupting) "Peaceful?"  
  
Illyria: (softly) "Yes."  
  
Wes: "I know. It's somewhat satisfying."  
  
Illyria: "Why are you--"  
  
Wes: "Here?"  
  
Illyria looks at him again.  
  
Wes: (with a smile) "Let's just say I don't regard sleep as highly as used to."  
  
Illyria turns her gaze back towards the city lights.  
  
Wes: "Came up here looking for you."  
  
She looks at him with the corner of her eyes.  
  
Wes: "I used to come up here. A lot. To think. To.... get away from... everything." (pauses) "Staring into the city like this could fool you. It is... nothing more than an illusion. It tricks you into believing this... place, this city is safe. Truth is, it isn't. And it never will be. Kind of makes its nomenclature sound a bit ironic."  
  
He notices her eyes are fixed on him.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "I used to ponder on such things. That given time this would be a safe place. Of course, then I had my throat cut open and everyone I cared about abandon me. Put things in a different perspective, to say the least." (pauses) "Now all I have left if the fight."  
  
Illyria: (uncertain) "Why?"  
  
Wes: (remains quiet for a couple of seconds) "Because..." (breathes deep) "that is all I can do."  
  
He remains quiet for a while, then turns around and heads towards the stairwell. Illyria watches intently as he walks away, but doesn't say a thing. He stops at the door.  
  
Wes: "Don't stay up too late."  
  
Illyria turns around to the stars just as the door closes behind Wes.  
  
The dreams are all the same. They make him sweat through the night. Her pale face. Her fearful eyes. Her cold skin. Her tears. Blood. He tries to run from its sight, but he never is fast enough. She always comes to him, no matter how far he runs. She takes hold of him. She touches his face with her clammy fingers, whispering a lullaby as she kisses him. He can't escape. He doesn't try. He welcomes her kiss, hoping that it will take him away with her. This isn't his nightmare. This is his dream. He wakes up, every day that he can't force himself to remain awake, and realizes that it was just that. A dream. That is the nightmare.  
  
-- Fin. 


	3. The brave and the bold

Chapter III: The brave and the bold.  
  
There's not much to do in these cold autumn nights. Saving lives and fighting the 'good fight' aren't as savory as they used to be. He walks with a slight limp carrying the weapons of the hunt. He hurt his leg while fighting a nest full of vampires in the suburbs. The house's previous owner had made the incredible mistake of inviting his daughters "drama" classmate inside one particular evening for finals study session. That was five months ago.  
  
Little did Mr. Duvall know then that his daughter had met him at a rave in the outskirts of the city a week before. Or that he wouldn't be able to make that presentation the following morning that would've gotten him that promotion. Or that his unknowingly pregnant wife would have to suffer the hell of feeling her two month old fetus burn inside of her after being sired. Had he known, he would have saved himself the trouble of inviting over "drama students" at night. - Just another day in L.A.  
  
The nest had already been cleared out. Its dwellers didn't offer much of a fight and it would have been over quickly, had he not been careless enough to fight them in a flight of stairs. Now, all he wants is a cold shower. He enters his apartment and is stunned to find a familiar figure standing in his living room so casually.  
  
Wes: "To what do I owe this visit?"  
  
Angel: (startled and losing grip on a priceless dagger) "Oh, uh, ahem I was just, uh--"  
  
Wes looks at Angel with intrigue. He finds it quite amusing that this 250 year old creature could be embarrassed so easily.  
  
Angel: (sighs) "Sorry."  
  
Wes looks at him, forcing himself not to laugh. He walks past him and into the kitchen. Angel stares at him as he walks by, he doesn't speak, he doesn't move, he just scratches the back of his head nervously. Wes puts his cross-bow on the table and takes off his wrist-sword. He turns around and sees Angel looking around the apartment nervously.  
  
Wes: "So," (looking at his weapons) "planning on sharing with me why is it that you came here?" (walks towards the fridge) "I already gave you everything I had on Cordelia."  
  
Angel: "Oh, yeah, I, uh, found her..." (in a whisper) "more or less."  
  
Wes takes out a beer from the fridge and turns towards Angel, closing the door behind him. They stand there looking awkwardly at each other for seconds that might as well have been hours.  
  
Wes: "Do you want a beer?"  
  
Angel: "God, yes."  
  
Time passes by quickly. They both sit at Wes' couch and drink to days long past. After a sinful amount of ale, they both start to feel its innate effects.  
  
Wes: "So" (holding a glass in front of himself and staring through it), "how've you been?"  
  
Angel: (leans forward and sets a shot-glass on the table) "All right, I guess. Place isn't the same. Not since..." (he stops and looks at Wes, startled by his own comment).  
  
Wes: (puts the glass on the table and serves himself more whiskey) ".... Since I took your son."  
  
Angel grabs his glass and fiddles with it, avoiding eye contact.  
  
Wes: (reclines against his seat, stretching his legs) "I never went to Holtz to betray you."  
  
Angel: (looks at him and after a pause...) "No, I, uh, I don't imagine you did."  
  
Wes: "He really hated you. Probably still does."  
  
Angel: "I gave him reason enough for that."  
  
Wes: "No."  
  
Angel looks at him startled.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "What happened to him wasn't your fault." (stares into the glass at the table) "There was no reason for you to pay for what Angelus did. I, uh, I thought he'd see that."  
  
Angel sees him. A cold look of utter humiliation and disappointment crosses Wes' face and Angel takes notice.  
  
Wes: (breathes deeply) "Didn't work though." (chuckles) "Otherwise we wouldn't be here." (drinks down the whole whiskey shot)  
  
They remain quiet for a couple of seconds. Angel looks around the apartment.  
  
Angel: "I would've sworn this place was bigger."  
  
Wes: "I'm not going to apologize."  
  
Angel's taken aback. He stares sharply at Wes who keeps staring at the shot- glass he's holding with his hands.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "That's what you came for.... isn't it?"  
  
Angel: (leans back on the couch, staring directly at his face) "Don't know."  
  
Wes: (with a shy smile) "I think you did, but" (puts the glass on the table and leans back in his seat) "you're not gonna get one."  
  
Angel doesn't respond. He just stares at him intently.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "I admit I made a mistake, but the fact is that you tried to kill me." (raises his gaze and meets Angel's) "I can't forget that."  
  
Angel: "Then why did you--"  
  
Wes: "Because you're needed. You create a balance between us and them. I had to bring you back."  
  
Angel: "Them?"  
  
Wes: "Wolfram and Hart."  
  
Angel: (looks at him sharply) "Is that the only reason?"  
  
Wes: (looks at him and pauses...) "No... Fred and Gunn weren't going to last much longer without you either. I'd done all I could without them noticing and I was getting tired."  
  
Angel: (looks at the table) "Thanks... for taking care of them. You were... you were always--"  
  
Wes: (standing up) "I'm going to bed. I don't think I need to show you the way out. Good night." (he walks into his room, shutting the door behind him)  
  
Angel stands still for a couple of minutes, staring at the door. He wonders if had he been more attentive or had he listened better would he still be able to reach his friend. He walks out of the apartment as quietly as he had entered it.  
  
Inside his room, Wesley stands in front of his window observing the outside world. He notices a black convertible speeding away from his apartment building and feels relieved. He turns around and looks at the clock. It's 3:16 am. He should get back to work soon. He feels tired yet compelled to keep on. He takes a deep breath and turns around towards his desk and finds Angel staring at him from the doorway.  
  
Wes: "Angel? I thought you'd gone to your apartment by now."  
  
Angel: "Could say the same to you. Mind if I come in?"  
  
Wes: "No, please, sit down." (he sits behind his desk and moves around pile after pile of case files)  
  
Angel: (walks into the office) "Wes?"  
  
Wes: (lifts his eyes of a template) "Can I help you?"  
  
Angel: "Look, I, uh..."  
  
They look at each other and burst in laughter.  
  
Angel: (calming down) "Hmm, rough week, uh?"  
  
Wes: "Yes, ahem, to say the least."  
  
Angel: "Wes, you've been killing yourself over... everything that's happened lately, but you can't let things get to you the way they are."  
  
Wes reads from the template again.  
  
Angel: "Look, I know things are bad, but--"  
  
Wes: "I can't decipher it." (closes the template)  
  
Angel: "What?"  
  
Wes: "The A'kreyen Truths. It's for a client. He's paying a substantial amount of money for this translation."  
  
Angel: "A'kreyen?"  
  
Wes: "Yes, they were a tribe of pure demons during the Old One's sway of the planet. Apparently our housing of an Old One has renewed interest among collectors and fanatics."  
  
Angel: "Guess the old bitch-queen is quick in making impressions, huh?"  
  
Wes: (grips the edges of the template with a shy smile) "Y-- yes."  
  
Angel: (realizing he struck a nerve) "I'll leave you here to your... yeah." (stands up and walks towards the door)  
  
Wes: "Angel..."  
  
Angel stops at the doorway and turns around.  
  
Wes: "... I'm sorry.... about what happened."  
  
Angel: "Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."  
  
Wes sits there staring at the empty doorway. He doesn't move for a moment. He still doesn't understand what happened. Regardless, there is still work to be done. Prophecies to be translated. Demons to be killed. Sorcerers to be found. - Just another day at Wolfram and Hart.  
  
Harmony walks out of the elevator. Being fashionably late is something of a talent for her; after all, she was never good in Arts & Crafts. She sits at her desk when she's approached by a large man fitting every stereotype of a white, fifty-something American.  
  
Harmony: "Welcome to Wolfram and Hart. How may I help you?"  
  
Man: "Yeah, hon, I'm here to see your boss."  
  
Harmony: "Well, do you have an appointment?"  
  
Man: "Just tell him Detective James Rutteger is here to see him."  
  
Harmony takes to the telephone. As she's engaged in a conversation, Det. Rutteger roams around the area.  
  
Harmony: "Excuse me!"  
  
Rutteger turns towards her.  
  
Harmony: "He'll see you now."  
  
The detective and Harmony walk towards the large double doors.  
  
Harmony: (opening the door) "Don't be afraid. He won't bite."  
  
James: "I'm sure he won't."  
  
Rutteger walks into the office, towards the desk.  
  
James: "You gonna invite me for a drink at least? No? Jeez, back when Holland was here you could count on at least certain perks." (walks towards the window) "Gotta love the mountain, huh?" (pauses) "You have a serious problem, kid. I've been here working for your bosses for centuries and I've always done my duties, just as this company does theirs. Now, I didn't sell my children's souls to the Partner's for immortality and a place beneath their wings for it all to come down so fast." (turns around and sits in the chairs in front of the desk) "It happened. Last night. Two were murdered. He's here in the city and you have to find him fast before they do. If you wait any longer he--"  
  
He's interrupted by his finger. He holds it high up, commanding him to quiet down. He leans forward and spits a finger nail in front of Rutteger, then reclines back on his chair.  
  
Lindsey: "I'm sorry." (with a cocky smile) "You were saying?"  
  
-- Fin. 


	4. Circumstances

Chapter IV: Circumstances.  
  
Another colorful day in a city that has plenty:  
  
Detective James Rutteger likes to think he's a very patient man. Living for nearly a thousand years have made sure that he maintained some measure of patience during the most inconvenient circumstances. Lindsey MacDonald sees a very insecure little man that he could break in half in a split second given the right circumstances. He understands what the "good" detective's purpose in his office is about. He looks at the man in front of him, and can't help but wonder how much longer must he act like a child so he can bring this creature's hatred upon him. There is no real reason to do so... except maybe sheer amusement.  
  
Lindsey presses the line for his secretary.  
  
Lindsey: "Harm?"  
  
Harmony: (through the intercom) "Yes, boss?"  
  
Lindsey: "Bring me a beer here, will ya? Thanks." (looking at Rutteger) "So... what's your problem?"  
  
James: "Listen, squirt, we are dealing with the death dealer here. You're wasting your time just sitting here."  
  
Lindsey: "Wait a minute, wait a minute. What death dealer?"  
  
Harmony enters with a beer bottle for Lindsey.  
  
James: "The bringer of chaos. The Arathma'aet. He's here."  
  
Lindsey: "Yeah, that all sounds pretty interesting. Except that I have no idea what the hell are you talking about." (grabs the beer) "Thanks, Harm."  
  
Harmony: "No problemo, boss!" (she leaves the office)  
  
Lindsey: "She's cute, isn't she?"  
  
James: (stands abruptly) "Dammit! Now you listen to me, you sniveling little bastard--"  
  
Lindsey: "Sit down."  
  
James freezes for a couple of seconds then calmly sits back down on his chair.  
  
Lindsey: (cont.) "I understand your concern for the matter at hand, and I assure you that we will do everything with our resources to deal with this... situation. However..." (stands up from his chair and walks towards the windows) "this matter is to be taken into consideration by my team." (turns around and faces Rutteger) "I will not jump into any plan without first going through it very carefully, you understand me?"  
  
James: "Yes, I understand."  
  
Lindsey: "Good... get out of my office." (drinks from his bottle and turns towards the mountains again).  
  
James stands up quietly and starts walking backwards, bowing his head, until he reaches the doorway. He turns around and walks away. Lindsey stands by the window for a while longer. He likes the view, he always did. He walks towards his desk and finds Hamilton staring at him from the doorway.  
  
Hamilton: "Mr. MacDonald? Good morning."  
  
Lindsey: (standing in front of his desk, perusing through the files) "Hamilton. To why do I owe this... unpleasant surprise?"  
  
Hamilton: "The Senior Partners are concerned about certain management decisions you've taken as of late."  
  
Lindsey: "Such as?"  
  
Hamilton: "Well, we can take the way you regrettably treated the good detective as right now."  
  
Lindsey: "I just wanted to see how much the guy could take. I don't see the harm of it."  
  
Hamilton: "Let me remind you of something, Lindsey. Angel may have given you the reigns of the L.A. branch, but that does no--"  
  
Lindsey: "Please leave."  
  
Hamilton: "Excuse me?"  
  
Lindsey: "I got work to do Marcus. So unless you actually have anything of particular interest to share, I suggest you leave." (sits on his chair and reads through the paper-work) "I'm not Angel. Don't make that same 'mistake' again."  
  
Hamilton: "Very well. Have a nice day, Mr. MacDonald."  
  
Marcus walks out of the office. Lindsey reads through the papers and sets them down on his desk. He leans back on his seat and grabs the bottle. He takes a large sum of liquor into his mouth and slowly allows it to pass down his throat. He puts the bottle on the desk again and wipes his face with his hands and gets back to his work. After all, running an evil law- firm isn't quite as simple as building a virus or perhaps something more rudimentary, such as a fusion bomb.  
  
It's 11:36 pm. Lindsey parks his car in front of a diner in the outskirts of the series. He walks out his vehicle and looks around him as he walks inside the diner. He passes the counter and sits at the farthest table from the entrance.  
  
Wes: (reading a book) "You're late."  
  
Lindsey: "Hello to you too, Wes."  
  
Wes closes the book and puts it beside him on his seat.  
  
Lindsey: (cont.) "Anyhow, you don't mind if I eat, do you?"  
  
Wes: "Long day at the office?"  
  
Lindsey: (turning around looking for a waitress) "You have no idea."  
  
Wes: (chuckles) "I think I do."  
  
A young waitress walks up to the table.  
  
Waitress: "Hey, honey, what do you want?"  
  
Lindsey: "I'll have an order of pancakes, fried eggs, bacon, hash browns and sausages for an entrée."  
  
Waitress: "And to drink?"  
  
Lindsey: "Coke."  
  
Waitress: (turning towards Wes) "And you? Are you going to keep admiring that empty cup or do you want a refill?"  
  
Wes: "Refill should be fine. Thanks."  
  
The waitress walks back to the counter and picks up the pot, but is distracted by an adjacent TV and doesn't move.  
  
Lindsey: "So, how's life as the Avengers?"  
  
Wes: "Unfulfilling. Yours?"  
  
Lindsey: "Gotta love them perks."  
  
Wes: "Yes."  
  
At that moment the waitress approached them with the coffee pot on hand. She serves Wes another cup, and pours one for Lindsey. After she's done she walks back to her program.  
  
Lindsey: "You think they know?"  
  
Wes: "If they did we would be dead by now."  
  
Lindsey: "Have you told Spike?"  
  
Wes: "No."  
  
Lindsey: "Are you?"  
  
Wes: "Do you have anything useful?"  
  
Lindsey: "Just one thing: the Arathma'aet."  
  
Wes: "The who?"  
  
Lindsey: "The Arathma'aet. As far as I know it arrived here sometime last night. I got a visit from James Rutteger."  
  
Wes: "The detective?"  
  
Lindsey: "Yeah. He's been a player for the Partners for quite awhile now. He says that the death dealer has arrived."  
  
Wes: "Death dealer? Couldn't come up with a more original name?"  
  
Lindsey: "Wait, it gets better. It took out two priests of a sect downtown. The coroner's report says that the kids were beheaded while they were still playing video games in their apartment. The heads were still attached to their bodies which mean that whatever did this did it at an incredible speed. They didn't even feel it."  
  
The waitress approaches with Lindsey's plate in her hand and a coke in the other.  
  
Waitress: "Here we go: one order of pancakes, bacon, fried eggs, hash browns and sausages. And here's your coke. Is there anything else?"  
  
Lindsey: "No, thanks. I think that's it, unless you..."  
  
Wes: "No" (smiles), "that will be all."  
  
Waitress: "Great. Should you need anything blow me a whistle, 'kay?"  
  
Lindsey: (smiling) "Sure thing."  
  
Wes: "She is rather cheery."  
  
Lindsey: "Nah, maybe just a tad. It's mostly just an act to get us grumpy old men to pay for her College tuition. It's either this..."  
  
Wes: "... or a strip club."  
  
Lindsey: "You sure you don't want anything?"  
  
Wes: "No. I think I better be going."  
  
Lindsey: "Suit yourself."  
  
Wes stands to leave.  
  
Lindsey: (cont.) "Hey, wait a minute. What about the Arathma'aet?"  
  
Wes: "I'll research it at home. The best thing we can do right now is keep a low profile."  
  
Lindsey: "Like meeting on an empty diner in the outskirts of the city at midnight?"  
  
Wes: "Enjoy your dinner, Lindsey. I'll be in touch."  
  
Wes grabs his book and walks outside of the diner. He looks out into the clear, dark sky and sends a prayer for those that are going to get caught in the storm. Things will get ugly, yet under the circumstances he maintains his calm. He's a patient man. Whatever comes he'll face, and he'll do so because everything is finally according to plan.  
  
-- Fin. 


	5. Grievances, a plethora of red and coffee...

Chapter V: Grievances, a plethora of red and coffee with strange-folk.  
  
He drives without a care in the world. For the first time in years he's confident that things might work to his desires. He arrives at his apartment building and walks out of his car. He feels tired and for once he actually wants to rest. He can forget about the nightmares for once.  
  
He enters the apartment and finds it just as he left it. Empty. Dark. He walks into his room and finds Illyria standing by the window.  
  
Illyria: "You were gone for long."  
  
Wes: (closes door behind him) "I thought you and Spike were going to take out a nest."  
  
Illyria: "We destroyed the half-breeds. They provided little challenge."  
  
Wes: "And Spike?"  
  
Illyria: "The last I saw of him he walked away with an arrogant and underdressed primitive under his arm. I assumed he desired her company in private."  
  
Wes: "Well, that's Spike alright. Goes to show you how little we have actually evolved, huh?"  
  
Illyria doesn't respond. Wes walks over to his closet, takes of his jacket and hangs it in.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "Are you alright?"  
  
Illyria: (turns around) "I... am--"  
  
Wes: "Yes?"  
  
Illyria: (turns around towards the window again) "I don't understand why are you always absent."  
  
Wes: (smiles) "Is that it? Afraid I'm dating other women?"  
  
Illyria lowers her head as in embarrassment.  
  
Wes: (sits down on his bed) "Illyria."  
  
She raises her head slowly, looking at him in the eyes.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "Everything that's happened in the last year has... taken an incredible toll on me."  
  
Illyria: (whispering) "Fred?"  
  
Wes: (looks up at her) "Yes... but it's more than that." (sits up and stands in front of the window by her) "Things had more meaning before. Last year at Wolfram & Hart I got comfortable, careless. I forgot what that place really was"  
  
Illyria turns around and looks outside the window. She gets close to the glass and puts her hand on it.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "I proved my father right again. (chuckles) I swallowed the illusion. (pauses) Then Fred died and you... I felt numb. I wanted a beautiful lie. I took everything that could've taken my mind off the reality. Didn't work."  
  
He looks at her and notices that she's staring at him very intently.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "Um, ahem now, dealing with Angel gone and the others in England... things are just harder now."  
  
He walks away from the window and heads towards the door. Illyria turns around and sees him standing in the doorway looking at her. She looks into his eyes and sees the desperation in his eyes. He's fearful, but she can't understand of what. He turns around and walks away, leaving her in the room alone. Perhaps he fears of something coming. Perhaps he fears her. Her guide walks away from her again... it's becoming less and less tolerable.  
  
Lindsey walks off the elevator at W&H loosening his tie. He walks into his office and heads towards the elevator leading to his pad, checking his wrist-watch constantly. He walks inside the elevator and rides it all the way to what used to be Angel's apartment. As he walks off, he notices the lights are off.  
  
He steps in, cautiously looking around. He sees a dark figure in his room, giving him his back. Lindsey walks over to a nearby table and turns on a lamp. Det. Rutteger turns around holding a double barreled shotgun in his left hand. His hands, his limbs are shaking. He's sweating profusely and is showing no signs of stability.  
  
Lindsey: (trying to remain calm) "J-- James. What are you doing here?"  
  
James: "You stupid ant. (laughs manically) Do you have any idea of what you did?"  
  
Lindsey: "No. I-- I don't. Why don't you put the big gun down and we--"  
  
James: (shouting) "Shut up!!"  
  
Lindsey walks back a step or two raising his hands.  
  
James: "They know. They know, they know, they know and it's all your fault!!"  
  
Lindsey: "James, what do they know? Who are you talking about?"  
  
James: (points at Lindsey with the shotgun) "I told you to deal with it. I told you, and you laughed and you spit in my face."  
  
Lindsey: "Hey, hey. Easy, ok?"  
  
James: "Now they know it's here and they're... oh, damn. Damn, damn, damn. Dammit!!!" (fires a shot pass Lindsey)  
  
Lindsey: "Geez, stop. Just stop! Let me help you. I-- I can set up some--"  
  
James: (laughs) "They already have my soul, you idiot. Now they want the flesh... flesh and death and...." (starts crying desperately)  
  
Lindsey walks over slowly towards Rutteger. James lowers his shotgun and covers his eyes. Lindsey approaches him and just as he grabs the barrel Rutteger knocks him down with it.  
  
James: "You... this is all your fault. All yours. They wouldn't want me if it weren't for you."  
  
Lindsey: (crawls back) "L-- listen. James. We can work this out. Just tell me what to do. Please, just tell me how I can help you."  
  
James Rutteger stares at Lindsey like a crawling insect. He grabs the shotgun and walks towards him.  
  
Lindsey: (realizing what he can do) "Dammit, James, you can't do this. What do you think the Senior Partners are going to do with you if they find out you killed me."  
  
James stops.  
  
Lindsey: (cont.) "Geez, man. What are you running away from? Let me help you."  
  
James stares at him without responding. Tears are still dripping from his eyes.  
  
Lindsey: (cont.) "Is it the Council? A Slayer?"  
  
James lowers his shotgun.  
  
Lindsey: (cont.) "Just tell me what I can do."  
  
James: "You really have no idea, do you?"  
  
Lindsey: "What?"  
  
James: (laughs manically) "You don't know." (walks around the room mumbling to himself)  
  
Lindsey: "Don't know what?"  
  
James: "They won't care if I kill you."  
  
Lindsey: "The Partners?"  
  
James: "You screwed them over once. But they have plans. Big plans." (he pauses them begins crying again) "I don't want to go."  
  
Lindsey: "Wait, what plans?"  
  
James: (looks about) "They're coming for me."  
  
Lindsey: "What are you talking about, James? Who?!?"  
  
James: "Something tells me this is the moment when you should get on your knees and pray to your higher powers, kid. Tell my wife I love her."  
  
With that said Rutteger raises his shotgun, turns it on himself and fires. The shell enters through the chin, and in a matter of a nanosecond it shatters through his mouth, brain and cranium, exiting through his hairline creating a plethora of vibrant, warm blood and organic materials that colors the wall. The body tumbles down shortly thereafter, soaking the carpet with the remaining life that pours out of the man's body.  
  
Lindsey MacDonald has many questions left unanswered. He had spoken with that man hours ago in his office. Now he lay there, staining the floor and leaving a family of three behind. W&H tends to get at people like that. Lindsey's tired, yet sleep is remote. He can't tear himself away from the body. Somehow a fruit basket to his wife won't do this time. Who are they? What did they want? Questions and answers. Hard to find those together nowadays.  
  
He runs. He follows them with incredible resilience. They never get far before he catches them. These two are proving to be an exception. He catches them at a blind corner in an alley. It's 5:13 am. Two minutes later and the alley needs a sweep. He takes out a cigarette and lights it, while he sits in a garbage can. He rests. It's been a long night. Prostitutes and vampires are an interestingly volatile combination, but he doesn't care. He's just glad he can return to his apartment with gratification and pride. Not a bad day's work for William the Bloody. The smoke from the cigarette signals that.  
  
Then it happens. It pierces through the night like a butcher night to paper. The sound is horrifying. It mortifies. Spike stands up with his cig in his lips and looks around. It's dark but he sees it coming. He takes out his cigarette and tosses it to the ground. He walks to meet his foe and sees him clearly. It seems ghastly human. His eyes are darker than the cold recess of space. His limbs vibrate intensely. His face, scarred in ancient writings, exhibits a gleeful grin. Desire of death is its wish. His body, young looking and frail, appears strongly determined for battle.  
  
Panting the creature releases its first words in a dark, rasping voice, beneath a joyful laughter: "Half-breed." The creature releases another desperate shriek that pierces across the night. It invokes anger, hate, sorrow and pain.  
  
Death has arrived.  
  
-- End. 


	6. The odyssey

Chapter VI: The odyssey.  
  
She turns. Cold air rushes in. Her hands grip. Her lips quiver. Her heart pounds intensely. She turns. Her legs scatter across the surface. Her feet search for each other. Her breath quickens. She turns. Her arms grab hold of the softness. They squeeze. Her body trembles. She tosses. Her grip tightens.  
  
The sheets are spread across her, covering her features. She sleeps trying to find comfort as in the one you get from a lover. She moans softly as she rolls about the bed. The dreams take hold of her. She feels his hands crawling softly through her stomach. The embrace is soothing. It's painless. She dances quietly while he softly speaks words of lust and love into her ears. She turns to him and stares into his eyes. They dance.  
  
The room is full of young lovers in desire of one another's touch. Their bodies just a reflection. Like a house of mirrors that twirls around them. She puts her hands on his chest. His heart beats powerfully. Their bodies touch in such contrived desire that she can't take it. She cocks her head back exposing her chest and neck, inviting him to taste her. Hands meet. Lips convene with skin. Passion fills the air.  
  
She opens her eyes in a bed-full of petals. She gazes at him from afar. He doesn't speak but she hears what he's saying. His voice is powerful, but gentle. His eyes penetrate her soul and rattle her heart. She loves him. He loves her. Their love knows no bounds. It makes her weak, yet gives her strength. It's such a beautiful irony. She sits up. Her hair flowing like waves from the deep blue sea. She acknowledges him by inviting him to lay by her. She loves him. He Loves her. It has always been and it will forever be. He walks slowly towards her. Every step he takes brings him closer to her. He walks. He lusts. She wants it too. Their love. Their passion for one another. He walks. His hands begin to dissipate. His legs and lower torso follow. He walks towards her and all that is left of her angel is just a dark silhouette embedded in her eyes. She screams for him, but he has faded. He's gone.  
  
Willow, Gunn and Spike have been disregarding their bodies natural call for sleep for hours. They sit in the lobby of the Hyperion talking, laughing. Sharing stories about their own. They've been like this for almost 18 hours.  
  
Willow: "Is that it?"  
  
Gunn: "What do you mean 'is that it'?"  
  
Willow: "Well, what happened?"  
  
Gunn: (looks at her and bursts laughing) "Ok, ok. We left the hotel. I believe Wes was sitting over (points to the stairs leading to the courtyard) there with Cordy. We do a little reconnaissance and Angel does his thing, you know?"  
  
Spike looks at him, raising his left eyebrow.  
  
Gunn: "Anyway, we head out. And all this time Angel's still bitching about his coat."  
  
Spike: "And he had the nerve to tell me to get over losing my jacket in Italy? Ponce." (drinks from a Jack bottle)  
  
Gunn: "Hey, you got 10 new ones 30 seconds later."  
  
Willow laughs softly.  
  
Gunn: "Anyway, where was I?"  
  
Willow: "Wes did the big hero walk and Angel was crying about his coat."  
  
Gunn: "Right, so we get to Bryce's manor, and Angel and I take the back. We head in, and, long story short, we bust some heads."  
  
Willow: "That's just so typical."  
  
Gunn: "Tell me about it, although it's pretty good stress relief. Anyway, after it was all done, Wes takes the shackles of Virginia. Till this point we haven't even realized it why the sacrifice couldn't be done. When Yeska showed up she said the sacrifice was impure and we--"  
  
Spike: (spits liquor by the shock) "He slept with her?!?"  
  
Willow: "Oh. OH!"  
  
Gunn laughs.  
  
Spike: "I didn't think Percy was capable of closing deals during a job."  
  
Willow: "Hahahah, go Wes."  
  
Spike: "Oh, balls. The nightmares are gonna be worse this time than when my mum came on to--"  
  
Gunn and Willow look at him awkwardly. Spike blushes and drinks sporadically.  
  
Willow: "Well, I think it's safe to say that the conversation's over."  
  
Gunn: (looks over to the stairwell and sees Buffy coming down) "Good morning."  
  
Buffy: (startled) "Wha--?"  
  
Spike sees her and stands up.  
  
Buffy: (walks over to them) "Hi. Um, what time is it?"  
  
Spike: "6:47 pm"  
  
Buffy: "H...how long was I--?"  
  
Spike: "Since about 8 pm last night."  
  
Buffy looks at Spike.  
  
Willow: "Buffy, you look really tired. Did you sleep well?"  
  
Buffy: (spaced out) "Mm, sorry?"  
  
Willow raises her eyebrows in concern.  
  
Buffy: "Don't worry Will. I had a nightmare. There's nothing to it."  
  
Gunn looks to the floor. Spike drinks from the bottle. He feels the liquor in his mouth. He tastes it as if analyzing it then swallows it hard. It's unsavory. It doesn't provide neither comfort nor distraction. They all remain quiet. Standing in the room uncomfortably; like children in a new school.  
  
Buffy: (looks around at their faces) "Any word from Giles?"  
  
Willow: "No. Tried calling them about an hour ago, but there's still no answer."  
  
Buffy: "Keep trying, ok? I'll be upstairs."  
  
Buffy walks up the stairs again. Spike stares at her as she leaves, but he doesn't move a muscle.  
  
Gunn: (staring at thee floor) "You're not going to follow her?"  
  
Spike drinks from the bottle again. He takes it off his lips and throws it outside into the courtyard. The bottle shatters as it hits the ground, releasing its contents all over area. Spike reclines against the steps where he's sitting and looks straight at the ceiling.  
  
Gunn: (to Willow) "Guess not."  
  
Buffy walks around the hallway and arrives at the door of Angel's room. The door's halfway open and she walks in cautiously. She finds Lorne standing in the middle of the room.  
  
Buffy: "Lorne?"  
  
Lorne: (turns around and faces her) "Hey there kitten. How did you sleep?"  
  
Buffy: "So good I wish I hadn't."  
  
Lorne: "Yeah, well... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to barge in like this."  
  
Buffy: (smiling) "Don't worry. Just came up to hide."  
  
Lorne: "Tell me about it. I haven't been down in hours. I just came here to say my goodbyes."  
  
Buffy: "You're leaving."  
  
Lorne: "Yeah, that was the plan. Now I'm not so sure."  
  
Buffy: "Do you know where you're going?"  
  
Lorne: "Not the slightest bit." (pauses) "I just... I just wanted to leave. It's cost me enough. It's cost everybody dearly."  
  
Buffy: "Fine. Y...yeah, sure."  
  
Lorne: "I know you want to believe that he can come back, sweety. I know I want that too. But, he may not. There's a good chance that he won't come back. And right now, there are three souls down there that need you to lead them."  
  
Buffy: "I know."  
  
Lorne: "You can't keep hiding up here forever, Buffy. And sooner or later you're going to have to talk to Spike. He needs to know."  
  
She looks at him. Her eyes convey shock and uncertainty.  
  
Lorne: (smiles compassionately) "Your aura's practically screaming your feelings out loud."  
  
Buffy: (slightly embarrassed) "Oh."  
  
Lorne: "I can see why he loved you so much."  
  
Buffy looks at him blushing.  
  
Lorne: (cont.) "He never talked about you much, but when he did, you could tell he still cared for you."  
  
Buffy: "Yeah."  
  
Lorne looks at her for a few moments. She walks past him and stands in front of the bed. She tries to do the bed, but as she flips the sheets a tear falls into it. She looks at it for a few moments. Not knowing what to do. She opens her eyes widely. She can't control the shock but she fights it nonetheless.  
  
Lorne: "Well, I'm heading out. I, uh..."  
  
Krevlornswath walks towards the doorway. He stops and turns towards the girl. He sees her accommodating the bed sheets of the bed. He sees her in pain, desperately trying to conceal it. He sees beyond. He sees... no. Not anymore. The future's an uncertainty. Best leave it at that.  
  
Buffy sits in the bed. She caresses the sheets, while wiping the tears in her eyes with the other hand. She takes to her feet and turns towards the doorway and sees him there. The long black coat, the same hair, same smell. She walks towards him and locks her eyes against his. Then, without a word being uttered, she falls into his arms.  
  
It's going to be a long night.  
  
-- Teleute. 


	7. Interlude ‘Of books, tea and guys in gla...

Chapter VII: Interlude- 'Of books, tea and guys in glasses'.  
  
He walks the halls at a very hasty pace. He hurries past colleagues and students alike without so much as a complimentary smile on his face. He carries files in his hand. The folder's bent, and the papers inside look as if they are but moments away from flying away. He reaches a large set of double doors and opens them abruptly.  
  
Everybody inside is quiet. They look at him vaguely surprised from their seats in the conference table. He's not one to be late to affairs such as this. He looks around perplexed at the faces staring at him.  
  
Giles: "Sorry, I'm late." (walks over to his chair at the other end of the table) "Hope you didn't wait too long."  
  
Gunn: "No. Just twenty minutes, give or take."  
  
Giles: "Yes, thank you Charles. Please forgive me for not appreciating the sarcasm as much as I always do."  
  
Gunn: "Any news from the other side of the pond?"  
  
Giles: "Yes." (pauses) "They still haven't found him yet."  
  
Everybody looks at each other completely shocked. Their faces turn pale.  
  
Willow: "What do you mean they still haven't found him? It's been a week already."  
  
Giles: "Yes. They have been tracked him down to his last known location from different sources. There were signs of a confrontation, but nothing has come up yet."  
  
Lorne: "What about the Arathma... thing Wes was asking about? Anything on that?"  
  
Giles: "So far we have established that the creature is very old. Perhaps as old as Illyria. We found..." (opens the file and hands down copies across the table) "...translations of the term Arathma'aet going back as far as the dawn of civilized man."  
  
Xander: "Term? I thought it was its name."  
  
Giles: "Well, the translations indicate that Arathma'aet means Death Dealer in ancient demonic languages. The more... rudimentary translations, or colloquialisms, call it simply Death. To the best of my interpretation it's more of a... title, rather than name. Every source I had for the translation led me to believe that its origins could be traced back to the days of the Old Ones."  
  
Gunn: "And what did you come up with?"  
  
Giles: "That my suspicions were correct. References to its existence can be found, in some way or another, going as far as to the days of the Old Ones' rise to power."  
  
Gunn: "So what we're dealing here's another Old One? How did he survive?"  
  
Giles: "I don't believe it's an Old One." (takes off his glasses and wipes them) "Or at least not one that survived."  
  
Xander: "Then what is it?"  
  
Giles: (puts his glasses on and ponders on the question) "I don't know."  
  
Xander: "Oh great. We're dead."  
  
Giles: "Xander, I don't think this is the time for jokes."  
  
Xander: "I wasn't joking."  
  
Lorne: "Do you have any idea what it could be at least?"  
  
Giles: "My research team and I have come to the conclusion that whatever the Arathma'aet is it must have been dormant till now. But that's all I have. Where did it come from, why is it in Los Angeles, and why did it appear now are still unknown to me. My only hope is that Wesley can sort it before it's too late."  
  
Willow: "You think he'll be able to?"  
  
Giles: "I honestly don't know."  
  
They remain in their seats looking at the pages in front of them. No one can formulate a thought at the moment.  
  
Underneath the layers of concrete in the city of Los Angeles lies one of its own. He has been unconscious most of the time. He can give no more and he prays for the mercy of his foe. But he's alone. Nobody can hear his pain. Nobody can come to him. He awakens from his condition sporadically, but the pain is too much to bear. He closes his eyes and slowly drifts away.  
  
-- Fini. 


	8. Leveling the playingfield

Chapter VIII: Leveling the playing-field.  
  
They have been searching for days to no avail. Their quest seems futile. They move through the shadows, scurrying like ants. Their gaze fixed. Their pace quick. They are an army that serves the devil. They blend with the darkness and flow through it like snakes under the waters. They're senses heightened. Their mission clear. They're close now.  
  
"They're coming."  
  
They find their target. He lies on the floor beneath the rubble. They surround him grasping their weapons, cautiously looking at their surroundings. A man walks over to him. The kneels beside him and presses his earpiece.  
  
Man: "Big momma. We got the Red Stuff."  
  
The gather about closer to retrieve him. Mission complete. Time to go home.  
  
He walks into the diner. He's late. He knows it. This past week has been incredibly worrisome to him. He's exhausted, but the life he leads won't allow him to rest. He walks towards the table where he's being awaited.  
  
Lindsey: (with a coffee mug to his lips) "You're late."  
  
Wes: "I trust you have information worthy of my time?" (sits opposed to him)  
  
Lindsey: "You see, why is it that every time I get here late and you rub it in my face I still say 'hello' to you, but you can't do the same to me?"  
  
Wes reclines on his seat.  
  
Lindsey: (scoffs) "Jeez, you'd think good news would lighten your mood."  
  
Wes: "I wouldn't know. I haven't heard any in awhile."  
  
Lindsey: (sets down his cup on the table) "Fair enough."  
  
Wes smirks.  
  
Lindsey: "We found him. In the sewers, near the piers."  
  
Wes: "And?"  
  
Lindsey: "Well, let's just say he won't be busting anyone's chops for a really long time." (drinks from the cup)  
  
Wes doesn't respond.  
  
Lindsey: "Ok, how 'bout this? When we found him his body mass was half what it was the last time you saw him. Try human skeleton, ok?"  
  
Wes looks down at the checkered table cloth. He turns around and calls for a waitress.  
  
Waitress: (chewing on gum) "Hey, honey, what do you want?"  
  
Wes: "I'll have a cup of coffee, please."  
  
Waitress: "Sure thing. Anything else?"  
  
Wes: (with a smile) "No, that would be it. Thanks."  
  
Lindsey: "Listen, We--"  
  
Wes stops him before he can utter his name by raising his finger.  
  
Waitress: (startled) "Oh, um, I'll bee right back with your coffee." (smiles shyly and leaves towards the counter)  
  
Wes looks at her, then back at Lindsey.  
  
Lindsey: (taps the coffee mug) "Right. ahem So Spike--"  
  
Wes: "Where is he?"  
  
Lindsey: (bites his lower lip and picks up the cup) "Fairfield Clinic."  
  
Wes stares at him directly into his eyes. Lindsey takes a sip from his cup and then sets it down on the table again.  
  
Lindsey: "I set up a private room for him. He's being taken care of."  
  
Wes: "And his current condition?"  
  
Lindsey: "I talked to Dr. Melman this morning. He said that they managed to stabilize him. He'll be fine."  
  
Waitress: (coming from behind Wes) "Here's your coffee."  
  
Wes: (smiling at the girl) "Thanks."  
  
The young brunette walks away from the table and into the kitchen.  
  
Lindsey: "You wanna bet she's doing it with the cook?"  
  
Wes: "I was wondering if I was the only one that noticed."  
  
Lindsey: "How did you?"  
  
Wes: (drinks from the cup) "Well, for starters, I've tasted better things than this in the sewers."  
  
Lindsey: "You're a very complex man. Have I ever told you that?"  
  
Wes: (putting his cup down) "And how did you notice?"  
  
Lindsey: "I've been sitting here since her shift started about an hour ago. She had better hair when she came in."  
  
Wes: "That obvious."  
  
Lindsey: "Just a tad."  
  
Wes: "So, now that Miss Soon-to-be-third-grade-English-teacher's gone to have dinner with the chef, do you think it's possible that you'd tell me what you really brought me here for?"  
  
Lindsey: "What do you want to know?"  
  
Wes: "Any new information on the kid?"  
  
Lindsey: "Same as yours. Did you talk to the Council?"  
  
Wes: "I told them just enough to keep them busy over there."  
  
Lindsey: (picks up his cup again) "Make sure they don't come snooping around here."  
  
Wes: "That's the least of our concerns."  
  
Lindsey: (with the cup over his lips) "Let's hope." (drinks the rest of the coffee)  
  
Wes: "For your sake."  
  
Lindsey looks at him sharply. Wes reclines on his seat.  
  
Lindsey: "Look, we have enough crap on our hands. If this is going to work we have to deal with the situation at hand quick. We have to find the kid before more players start falling."  
  
Wes: "I gathered all the information Wolfram & Hart has on him." (quiets down for a minute)  
  
Lindsey: "Something wrong?"  
  
Wes: "Hamilton."  
  
Lindsey: "What about him?"  
  
Wes: "I was just wondering how much does he suspects. After all, you gave the order to find and retrieve Spike."  
  
Lindsey: "If you're asking how inquisitorial he is about that, then I'm gonna have to say not as much as I thought he would."  
  
Wes: "That's very unlike him."  
  
Lindsey: "You think he knows but just hasn't done anything about it?"  
  
Wes: "It's a little on the nose, I know."  
  
Lindsey: "Tell me about it."  
  
Wes: "And Eve?"  
  
Lindsey features turn cold and somber. He fiddles with the empty coffee cup uncomfortably.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "Nothing?"  
  
Lindsey: "Yeah."  
  
They remain quiet. Wes takes out his wallet and pulls out a 20 dollar bill and sets it in the middle of the table under his coffee mug.  
  
Lindsey: "You're getting the tab?"  
  
Wes: "Last one here pays. That was the agreement, wasn't it?"  
  
Lindsey: "Y-yeah. Sure."  
  
Wes: "I haven't forgotten our agreement."  
  
Lindsey: "It never crossed my mind."  
  
Wes: (standing up) "What room is he in?"  
  
Lindsey: "11-4"  
  
Wes looks at him. Lindsey plays with the empty cup, twirling it on the table. He walks out of the diner and gets into his car. He drives off.  
  
-- End. 


	9. Accords

Chapter IX: Accords.  
  
She's lying in bed, in sheer bliss. Her body at peace. Her mind at ease. She's been sleeping for hours after an evening of passion. She turns in the bed, expecting her lover to cuddle with her, but she finds herself alone. She opens her eyes, softly and sits up. She gently rubs her eyes and looks at the balcony. He sits at the lounge chair looking at the stars. To his side there's a broadsword, intricately allocated by his fingertips.  
  
She walks towards him and feels his despair. He's nervous. Fearful that he will not come out alive. She closes her eyes and remembers the loving words he softly whispered into her ears mere hours ago. She feels his hand meticulously caressing her figure. She feels his lips as they travel along her skin, from her lips down her neck. She opens her eyes and sighs in relief and satisfaction.  
  
Lindsey: "What're you doing up, babe?"  
  
Eve: (startled) "Sorry. What are you doing out here?"  
  
Lindsey: "Just thought I'd take a breather to cough up the strength to walk into Wolfram & Hart."  
  
Eve: (walks over to his side) "Do you trust him?"  
  
Lindsey: (looks over to her and sees her standing there in bare skin) "Babe?"  
  
He stands up and walks her inside the apartment. He grabs the bed sheets and puts it across her, covering her entire body. He rubs her arms and smiles into her eyes.  
  
Lindsey: "Better?"  
  
Eve: (looks nervous) "No. I-I, um, I--"  
  
Lindsey: "No."  
  
Eve looks at him as he walks away from her. He steps into the balcony and bends over to pick his sword. He swings it about slowly, twirling it around the hilt. She walks slowly towards him and he turns around, facing her. He walks inside the apartment ignoring her as she grasps for his hand. He walks into the kitchen and sets the sword on the counter.  
  
Eve: (walks in and reclines on the door) "Why are you doing this?"  
  
The words resonate in his ears. He turns around and sees her standing there, looking so frail. He opens the door of the refrigerator and takes out a carton of Orange Juice. He opens it and faces her again.  
  
Lindsey: "I don't know." (drinks from the carton)  
  
Eve: "Then let's go. We can leave L.A. now."  
  
He stares into her eyes. He puts the carton in the nearby counter and walks towards her. He holds her gently by the waist, drowning in her light stare.  
  
Lindsey: "I can't leave. Not yet."  
  
Eve: "They'll kill you. You do realize that, don't you?"  
  
Lindsey: (turns around and walks towards the counter) "If they wanted to do that, they would've done so already."  
  
Eve: "And how do you know that Angel won't betray you?"  
  
Lindsey: "Because he's the good guy and, apparently, so am I." (he grabs his sword and walks out) "Everything will be fine. Should anything happen I want you to get out of here. Go as far as possible and lay low."  
  
He enters his room and picks up his shoes. He sits down on his bed and ties them up.  
  
Eve: (from the doorway) "Lindsey."  
  
Lindsey: "Look, I know this whole thing looks like the plot of some cheesy disaster movie or something, but I'm serious." (stands up and walks out of the room again) "I'll need to know that you'll be safe if I want to get through this in one piece."  
  
He turns and faces her once more.  
  
Lindsey: (cont.) "I'll look for immediately after this is done. I'll find you."  
  
Eve looks away and combs her hair behind her ears. Lindsey sees her heartbroken and walks up to her.  
  
Lindsey: (cont.) "I'll come for you. I give you my word. I'll make it through this and we'll get away from this."  
  
Eve: (voice breaking) "Just hurry up and do it."  
  
Lindsey: (smiles) "I love you, babe."  
  
Eve: "If you die I'll kill you."  
  
Lindsey smiles and brushes her hair away from her face with his right hand. She grabs it and kisses his fingers. He leans over and softly kisses her lips. She doesn't respond to it at first but after a couple of moments she grabs his face with both hands and they kiss passionately. Their hands run across their bodies, feeling their skin, their blood pumping through their veins. He drops his sword and walks with her towards the couch in the living room, still engrossed in the moment. Their bodies fall in unison, their lips and hands still connected to one another. They feel each other, savoring this moment as if it were their last night on Earth.  
  
Wes is standing in the doorway of Spike's room. He looks at him, marveling at how incredibly worried he is for him. He walks in and closes the door behind him as quietly as he can. He grabs a chair and sits down beside the bed holding a small copper-colored book in his hand.  
  
Spike: "Come to sing me lullaby?"  
  
Wes: (smiling) "How're you feeling?"  
  
Spike: "How do you think?"  
  
Wes: "Point taken."  
  
Spike: "Where the hell am I?"  
  
Wes: "Fairfield Clinic."  
  
Spike looks around without moving his neck much.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "It's a hospital funded by Wolfram & Hart."  
  
Spike looks at him sharply. Wes suddenly feels cold and uncomfortable from the stare.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "After you disappeared I asked Lindsey to help in the search."  
  
Spike: "And he complied that easily?"  
  
Wes looks at him and sighs. He stands up and walks towards the door. He looks through the small window and suddenly, without turning his gaze, he yanks the electrical chord of the back of the video camera taping them.  
  
Spike: (nervously) "What are you--? What are you doing?"  
  
Wes: (turns towards Spike) "Spike."  
  
Spike looks at him and calms down.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "I need you to tell me what happened the night you disappeared."  
  
Spike: (pauses, then stammering) "I, uh, I was following these vamps. They weren't really anything big, just wanna-be-overlords-of evil. I followed them into an alley. I fought them, dusted the bastards and sat on a garbage can to grab a smoke."  
  
Wes: "Then, what happened?"  
  
Spike: "I heard a loud roar. It sounded like when you grind metal. It--" (he closes his eyes and quivers fearfully from the memories) "I, uh, I--"  
  
Wes: "Spike?"  
  
Spike: "I'm... I'm sorry."  
  
Wes: "Don't worry. What happened next?"  
  
Spike: "I got off the garbage can and I walked down the alley. Then--"  
  
Spike trails off. Wes looks at him intently.  
  
Spike: (cont.) "Then he--"  
  
Wes: "Spike."  
  
Spike: (looks at him) "I couldn't move. I couldn't--"  
  
Wes: "Did you happen to notice any identifiable characteristics?"  
  
Spike: "I, uh, ahem he had tattoos all over his face. He looked like that Nightcrawler guy from the movie."  
  
Wes raises his eyebrows, clearly missing the point.  
  
Spike: (cont.) "The movie. The one with the guy with cla-- He had tattoos all over his body. ahem They looked like scars, but they were ritual tats."  
  
Wes: "Anything else?"  
  
Spike: "I couldn't move."  
  
Wes: "He paralyzed you?"  
  
Spike: "No. He was too fast. Didn't give me a chance to even flick one of his hairs."  
  
Wes: (looks around and stands up) "That's, um, I'll see what I can do with this."  
  
Spike: "Wesley?"  
  
Wes: "Yes?"  
  
Spike: "Is there something you're not telling me?"  
  
Wes: (pauses, then sharply) "Yes."  
  
Spike looks at him with curiosity.  
  
Wes: "When I'm ready you'll be the first to know."  
  
Spike: "And how do you expect me to trust you till then?"  
  
Wes: "You're just going to have to."  
  
Wes and Spike look at each other's eyes once more. Wes turns around and walks out towards the door. He stops.  
  
Wes: "They'll take care of you until you're better. I suggest you rest as much as you can. We're going to need you in order to fight this thing."  
  
He looks at Spike and he notices that he's looking at the roof. Wes walks out of the room and leaves.  
  
Lindsey MacDonald's at his office. Wolfram & Hart is characteristically dark at this hour, but tonight it feels colder and more somber than usual. He signs contracts and awards petitions in his office. He puts the pen down and reclines on his chair, resting his feet in his desk while stretching his fingers. He closes his eyes, wanting nothing more than to sleep when the phone rings. Startled, he slowly picks it up after allowing it to ring several times.  
  
Lindsey: "This is Lindsey."  
  
He listens to the person on the other end of the line intently, without responding.  
  
Lindsey: "I, uh, I understand. Thanks. I, uh..."  
  
He hangs up the phone and sits back staring at it. Then, standing from his chair, he picks up his jacket from the desk and walks over to the elevator. Its doors open and he steps in.  
  
-- Teleute. 


	10. Hope and comfort

Chapter X: Hope and comfort.  
  
He knocks twice.  
  
The door opens.  
  
He looks at his visitor with a glint of surprise in his eyes.  
  
Lindsey: "I need to talk to you."  
  
Silence...  
  
They sit around looking at each other. The past weeks have taken an incredible toll on them. The air feels thick. Their mouths dry. They sit around and look at each other. Nobody wants to utter a single word. Reality comes into play the moment it happens. The illusion will be gone.  
  
'Knock, knock'  
  
Giles: "Well, uh, let's get this meeting underway and done as fast as we can." (pauses) "Alright."  
  
The door opens.  
  
Giles: "Well, uh, we have to, uh, ahem assess the situation as fast as possible. As far as we can tell the crisis that befell the globe mere weeks ago has more or less ended. Cities around the world are still in need of major relief efforts. As far as we know, the only real damage done by this is--"  
  
Wes: (looking at the center of the conference table) "That's enough."  
  
Giles: "Wesley," (pauses) "I know that you--"  
  
Wes: "Sorry, Rupert... I'm just having a rather difficult time in caring about anything but what you don't want to share."  
  
Giles: "Yes, well, um--"  
  
Gunn: "What happened to him?"  
  
Everybody looks at Giles.  
  
Giles: (after a pause) "I don't know."  
  
Spike: (scratching the table with his nails) "But you do have theories... don't you?"  
  
Giles: "Yes. I-I, um," (takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes) "I think whatever happened to him falls under a couple of possibilities. It could've been that he confronted the enemy and managed to deter them, or that he may have made a bargain." (pauses and puts glasses back on) "The latter seems more feasible."  
  
Silence...  
  
Xander: "So, what? He's dead?"  
  
Wes looks at him with the corner of his eyes.  
  
Xander: "Wait, I-I don't mean it like that."  
  
Willow: "Xander."  
  
Xander: "I didn't. I just... it just doesn't register."  
  
Wes: "I don't believe he's dead."  
  
Giles: "Why do you think so?"  
  
Wes: "The Senior Partners wouldn't kill him. He's an integral part of the Apocalypse. It's been foretold that he is."  
  
Giles: "But what makes you so sure that he hasn't already served his purpose in the Apocalypse?"  
  
Wes: "Because this isn't--"  
  
Spike: "Or that they weren't even talking about him in the first place?"  
  
Wes: "Spike, I seriously don't believe this is the time for your ridiculous feud over who fulfills the damn prophecy!"  
  
Willow: "But he's right."  
  
Wes glares at her, slightly shocked.  
  
Willow: (cont.) "I mean, it's not a pretty scenario, but the prophecy could be about Spike."  
  
Wes: "He's been fighting to redeem himself for years... I simply can't accept--"  
  
Giles: "You may have to."  
  
Wes stares at Rupert coldly. He remains unfazed, focusing his vision on the others as they argue their points.  
  
From across the table Lorne stares at Wes. He sees as he presses his hands against the cold oak-wood of the table. He can feel his anger and desperation build inside him, just as he drifts away from the others.  
  
Silence...  
  
Wes: "What do you want?"  
  
Giles: "I, uh, I've been meaning to talk to you. About what happened."  
  
Wes steps away from the window of the conference room and faces him.  
  
Giles: "I sincerely hope you don't take what happened yesterday as a personal attack. I know you cared about Angel and I want you to know that-- "  
  
Wes: "No."  
  
Giles: (startled) "I'm sorry?"  
  
Wes: "He's a warrior. If he did fall in battle, I can accept that."  
  
Giles stares at him intently.  
  
Wes: "But I can't accept it until I know for sure."  
  
Giles: "Yes, I, uh, we'll do whatever it takes to find out Wesley, but right now we need you."  
  
Wes: "Y-Yes, I'll, uh, see what I can do to help, but--"  
  
Giles: "Wesley."  
  
Wes: "No."  
  
Giles: "We need you here."  
  
Wes: "I'll not become a Watcher, Giles."  
  
Giles suddenly feels cold. Disappointed.  
  
Wes: "The answer is no."  
  
Giles: "W-Why?"  
  
Wes: "Because I waited too long for it to happen. If you had asked me that two years ago my answer would've still been no, but I would've actually taken the time to consider it."  
  
Giles: (looks down at the floor, and sharply) "That doesn't answer my question."  
  
Wes: "I was a terrible Watcher. When I went to L.A. everything changed." (pauses) "I found a purpose. I learned a lot from that place, and lost a lot because of it."  
  
Giles: "You're going back... aren't you?"  
  
Wes: "After I finish healing my wounds... yes, I'm leaving."  
  
Giles: "Well, I, uh, I'm pleased to say that I half-expected you to say that."  
  
He turns around to leave.  
  
Giles: (cont.) "Do whatever you have to Wesley, but find him. I trust you will."  
  
He walks out of the conference room.  
  
'Knock, knock'  
  
The door opens.  
  
He looks at his visitor with a glint of surprise in his eyes.  
  
Lindsey: "I need to talk to you."  
  
The door opens completely and he walks in. He turns around and looks outside cautiously, just as he shuts the door behind him.  
  
-- End. 


	11. Revelations

Chapter XI: Revelations.  
  
He takes aim. He drags his feet through the grass, allocating them directly underneath his shoulders. He pulls, straining his muscles, tightening them under the pressure. He takes aim again and releases.  
  
It flies along a smooth line. It cuts through the air, creating waves as it travels the sky.  
  
It hits with precision, in the heart.  
  
Gunn: (coming from behind) "Nice shot, Ollie."  
  
Wes: (turns towards him, startled) "I'm sorry?"  
  
Gunn: "Ollie...Ollie Queen, the Green Arro--" (smiles) "Forget I said anything."  
  
Wes: (snickers and turns around towards the target) "What are you doing here?"  
  
Gunn: "Just wanted to see what're you doing here. Never would've picked you for an archery buff, though."  
  
Wes: "It helps the healing process."  
  
Gunn: "I bet." (walks around the Coliseum) "Where do you think the Council gets the money for all this?"  
  
Wes: "British government... mostly."  
  
Gunn: "What's the leastly?"  
  
Wes: (pulls the string) "Old family money."  
  
Gunn: "But still... a stadium for track and field and a Coliseum with air conditioning. Not to mention boarding school-like accommodations--"  
  
Wes: "Well," (pauses and takes aim) "that's because it was a boarding school." (knocks the arrow hitting the wooden target in the forehead)  
  
Gunn: "Nice shot." (pauses to observe) "You do realize that if that were a vamp that wouldn't kill it, right?"  
  
Wes: "Yes, but the impact a sharp wooden object like that made would've destroyed most of its basic motor skills, leaving it paralyzed... and quite possibly suffering an epileptic-type episode."  
  
Gunn: "I know that... just wanted to see if your brain functions were still working the way they're supposed to."  
  
Wes: "Somehow I don't think this about archery." (turns around and faces him)  
  
Gunn: "You don't have to go Wes."  
  
Wes: "And you don't have to follow me just because I'm going."  
  
Spike: (walks up from behind) "Well are you kids just a sad bunch of blokes." (Gunn and Wes look at him) "What are we doing?"  
  
Gunn: "Right now? Trying to get Wes to get around the stupid notion that he'd be playing hero by going back to L.A."  
  
Spike: "Oh... that."  
  
Gunn: "Yeah."  
  
Wes remains silent. He takes another arrow from his quiver and sets it on the bow. He pulls the string, takes aim and releases. The arrow flies across hitting the target centimeters away from the left ventricle of its heart.  
  
Spike: "Hey, Percy... bet you can't knock twenty-nine in a minute."  
  
Gunn: (looks at him seriously) "Green Arrow vol. II, issue number eleven."  
  
Spike: "Twelve."  
  
Gunn: "Huh..." (looks at Spike surprised) "that's right."  
  
Spike smirks and looks at Wes.  
  
He sees the arrow coming, but he isn't fast enough to dodge it. It hits him in the kneecap. He falls to the ground, drowning the Coliseum with his pain. He grabs hold of it and pulls it out, jumping to his feet just before another arrow hits him in the right shoulder.  
  
Spike: (furious) "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!?"  
  
Spike jumps at Wes, who flings another arrow his way, hitting him the stomach. Spike rips it out, the tip covered in black blood. His fists tremble with fury and his teeth sharpen, just as his brow lifts and his eyes turn a darker shade of yellow. He runs at Wes with a cry in his mouth that pierces the heart of Charles Gunn.  
  
Spike stops. He looks into the eyes of Wesley and his entire body quivers. Wes releases the arrow pointed at Spike's chest. Spike looks at the tip of the arrow, standing nigh three centimeters from him and then at Wesley's calm and solemn eyes.  
  
It pierces his skin and bones as it penetrates his chest. He feels his entire body go numb and he collapses to the ground.  
  
Wes: (walks up to him) "Four arrows in ten seconds." (he bends down and pulls the arrow from Spike's chest) "You should get something to eat. You haven't eaten in days and your blood is starting to get going old." (he drops the arrow and walks out of the Coliseum)  
  
Two weeks have passed and Wesley's in his room packing to leave.  
  
Lorne: "Knock, knock."  
  
Wes: (turns around and faces him) "Lorne?"  
  
Lorne: "Yeah, I, uh, just came by to say 'bon voyage'."  
  
Wes: (smiles) "Thank you."  
  
Lorne: "Take care. A-And don't forget that we're all here if you need anything."  
  
Wes smiles and picks up his bag. He walks up to Lorne and they stare into each others eyes and shake hands, just before Lorne reels him into a hug.  
  
Lorne: "Yeah, well, uh... you should get going."  
  
Wes: "Yes."  
  
He heads towards the door.  
  
Lorne: (looking at the floor) "Wes?"  
  
Wes: (stops and turns around) "Yes?"  
  
Lorne: "I know... about Connor."  
  
Wes looks at him sharply and drops the bag. He turns and closes the door behind him.  
  
Wes: "How?"  
  
Lorne: "I don't know everything... in fact, all I know is that he's Angel's son and that something happened to him... and that you were part of it."  
  
Wes: "How long have you known?"  
  
Lorne: "Since after he came to Wolfram & Hart."  
  
Wes: "You read Angel, didn't you?"  
  
Lorne: "Y-Yes. I, uh, was with him in his office the next day and his aura was basically screaming it out."  
  
Wes: "And me?"  
  
Lorne: "Well, let's just say that going cuckoo the way you did was almost as good as singing."  
  
Wes looks down, trying to piece it together, trying desperately to give it some meaning.  
  
Lorne: (cont.) "Look Wes... I don't want to know what happened. I hardly understand the whole situation, but--"  
  
Wes: "Why didn't you say anything? I mean... how--?"  
  
Lorne: "I know my place, Wes. I see everything and respond with my charming wit and charisma, but I keep my mouth shut. I'm not a hero, Wes. Nor is it my intent. I'm the lovable green lounge singer that ever so often gets an opportunity to be somewhat aggressive towards the fiery down under. I see too much, Wes. So I keep to myself."  
  
Wes: "I, uh, I--"  
  
Lorne: "It's okay. You don't have to say anything. Just be careful. I know that I don't have to say it, but be careful, champ. Don't get killed."  
  
Wes: (grabs bag and smiles) "I won't. Thank you, Lorne."  
  
Lorne: (smiles) "Bon voyage."  
  
They look at each other once more and Wes turns around and leaves. The trip to L.A. is long... he has plenty of time to plan ahead.  
  
-- Fini. 


	12. Picking up the pace

Chapter XII: Picking up the pace.  
  
He's sitting idly in his living room, cataloguing his basic weaponry. He picks up a carton of pepper steak from a Chinese take-out and the chop- sticks from the bag in the dinner table and sits on the couch. He grabs a piece and just as he bites it there's a knock on his door.  
  
He sets it on the table in front of him and walks towards the door. He looks through the peep-hole and opens the door.  
  
Lindsey: "I need to talk to you."  
  
He walks in, looking casually outside and closes the door. Wesley looks at him with uncertainty in his gaze. Lindsey walks into the apartment nervously and notices the pepper steak sitting on the table in front of the couch.  
  
Lindsey: "Dinner plans?"  
  
Wes: "Apparently ruined."  
  
Lindsey: "No, uh, don't mind me."  
  
Wes: (nods in compliance) "Very well."  
  
He walks over to the couch and sits down. He grabs the take-out and takes a bite. Lindsey smiles as if surprised and sits down in the arm chair opposite of the couch.  
  
Lindsey: "Bon appetite."  
  
Wes: (reclines in his seat and wipes his mouth with a paper towel sheet) "Thank you. Want something to drink?"  
  
Lindsey: "You got a beer?"  
  
Wesley nods and stands from his seat. He walks over to the kitchen and grabs two beer bottles from the fridge. He walks over to Lindsey and hands him his.  
  
Lindsey: (struggling to open it) "You got something to open thi--?"  
  
Wes hands him a Swiss Army knife.  
  
Lindsey: (cont.) "Thanks."  
  
Wes: "Welcome." (drinks from his bottle)  
  
Lindsey opens his bottle and sets the keys on the table. He drinks from it and holds the bottle in front of his eyes. He stares at it for a couple of seconds then looks back at Wesley, who's coming from the kitchen table with a carton full of fried rice. He sits on the couch and looks at Lindsey. He tilts the box towards him.  
  
Lindsey: "Nah... thanks."  
  
Wesley eats his meal, while Lindsey reclines in his seat with the bottle in his hand. He takes a sip from the bottle and stretches his left leg.  
  
Wes: (looking and stirring his food) "How long are we supposed to drag this conversation before you tell me what you came here for?"  
  
Lindsey: (pauses) "They found her."  
  
Wesley stops just as he was about to take another bite. He puts the food on the table and wipes his hands and mouth with the sheet. He sits back on the couch and looks at Lindsey with a cold and dreadful stare.  
  
Lindsey: "I got a call at the office about an hour ago." (his well up) "They found her in Tibet or something... hiding in a sanctuary of some sort. She was... ahem she wa--"  
  
Wes: "When did it happen? Did they know?"  
  
Lindsey: "They don't... my sources told me that the way they found her she could've been tortured for weeks." (he takes a deep breath, choking back the tears) "They said that... that the monks there were all killed too. She'd been hiding there since the coup."  
  
Wes: "Partners?"  
  
Lindsey: "That's what I thought."  
  
Wes: "Could be the kid as well."  
  
Lindsey: "You think so?"  
  
Wes: "It's doubtful, but at this juncture I wouldn't rule it out."  
  
They stay quiet for a moment, processing their thoughts.  
  
Lindsey: "We need to tell Spike."  
  
Wes: "No... not yet."  
  
Lindsey: "Wes. He needs to know what're we dealing with here."  
  
Wes: "I'll talk to him, but it's too soon."  
  
Lindsey: "You're afraid he'll muck up your plan?"  
  
Wes: "He won't understand."  
  
Lindsey: "And Illyria?"  
  
Wes: "She won't be a liability. At least not until it happens."  
  
Lindsey: "We're gonna get a lot of heat for this. And the Partners won't be pleased one bit either."  
  
Wes: (sighs) "Yes. We're going to have to do it sooner than we thought."  
  
Lindsey: "I got everything set. All I need is your confirmation that you have your pieces set."  
  
Wes: "I will. Give me till the end of the week."  
  
Lindsey: "Sure." (stands up) "I'm going to get going. I, uh--"  
  
Wes: "Yes, of course."  
  
Wes stands up and follows him to the door.  
  
Lindsey: (standing by the door) "After this is done... I'm done. I'm not like you... I can't do this anymore."  
  
Wes: "Lindsey, give yourself time to grieve... it's not worth keeping it inside."  
  
Lindsey: "Hmph, you should know."  
  
Wes: "Yes, well..."  
  
Lindsey: "Yeah."  
  
They look at each other once more and Lindsey takes off. Wes locks the door behind him and walks back to his food. The following morning Lindsey walks into his office and finds Hamilton standing near the window, looking at the traffic below.  
  
Hamilton: "You know, I love the 1 o'clock traffic jams. Every employee in the city leaves at their lunch hour at any given time between 11 am and 12:30, but it's at 1 pm when they all run back towards their jobs." (pauses) "They look so small from here, but when they are closer... they seem even smaller."  
  
Lindsey: "Good morning to you too, Marcus." (walks up to his desk)  
  
Hamilton: "Why did you use the cleaners to get Spike?"  
  
Lindsey: (rummaging through the files in his desk) "Why do you want to know?"  
  
Hamilton: "Oh, nothing, I just thought that the Partners would find it interesting." (turns towards him)  
  
Lindsey: "Well, Marcus, I don't think it's any of their damn business why I did it. As a matter of fact he's being treated in Fairfield Clinic just as we speak."  
  
Hamilton: "No... he's not."  
  
Lindsey: (looks at him) "What're you talking about?"  
  
Hamilton: "He checked himself out just before dawn. You should've seen him acting so tough as he limped out the main door."  
  
Lindsey: (pulls back his chair, seats and rests his feet on the desk) "Well, that's Spike right there for you."  
  
Hamilton: "Word of advice, Lindsey: do not cross the Partners. I'd hoped that past experiences would've taught you that lesson. Don't follow the vampire's example."  
  
Lindsey stares at him and Hamilton smiles. He walks out of the office leaving him alone. After a few minutes the speaker phone rings and Lindsey answers it.  
  
Lindsey: "Yeah?"  
  
Harmony: (through the phone) "Um, boss? Your 2 o'clock is here."  
  
Lindsey: (checks his wrist watch) "It's not even 1:30 yet. Alright, send him in."  
  
He pushes himself back and walks towards the door, just as it swings open. Two large demons walk in followed by Archduke Sebassis.  
  
Lindsey: "Archduke." (bows) "Welcome." (smiles) "How may I be of service?"  
  
-- End. 


	13. The monster under the bed

Chapter XIII: The monster under the bed.  
  
He's crouched atop a roof top, peering through the distance as the wind blows in his face. He's an eagle. His eyes, keenly attached to the ground for anything that might require his attention. His ears desperately picking out anything that might be dangerous out of the giant den that is Los Angeles at night.  
  
Spike: "Bloody hell." (scoffs)  
  
Illyria: (walks up beside him) "Do you see anything?"  
  
Spike: "Not even a fly."  
  
Illyria walks up to the ledge.  
  
Spike: "Well... at least we have eight more hours before sunrise... it's still early. We might just get lucky."  
  
Spike stands up abruptly on the ledge of the building's roof and looks down at Illyria.  
  
Spike: "C'mon, Robin... the people of Gotham aren't gonna protect themselves."  
  
He jumps off the ledge. Illyria watches as he crashes down on a dumpster and a slight grin crosses her face. She leaps of the building and lands beside it just as Spike is crawling out of it.  
  
Spike: (looks at her grudgingly) "Not one word."  
  
They walk the back alleys of the city for the following hours looking for undead punching bags to release stress. The past few weeks have been rather intense for him. After an embarrassing defeat at the hands of an opponent that he can't even describe, he's been searching frantically for excuses to go out and hunt.  
  
Spike: "Hold on."  
  
Illyria: (stops) "What is it?"  
  
Spike: "Nothing. Just want to sit down for awhile. Want a smoke?"  
  
Illyria: "No. Perhaps it should be best if I go scour the area ahead."  
  
Spike: "Then perhaps it is." (puts the cig in his mouth and lights it)  
  
Illyria: (watching him) "I'll move swiftly, should there be any trouble."  
  
Spike: (sits on a garbage can and reclines against a wall) "No one's stopping you, Blue."  
  
Illyria looks at him then back at the continuing alley. She walks away leaving Spike there. He watches intently as she walks away. As soon as she drops from his gaze the cigarette in his mouth drops to the floor and he starts twisting in pain. He grabs his waist and falls of the garbage can coughing. He lies on the floor for a couple of seconds and then raises his shirt, exposing large bruises all over his chest and waist. He drops his head on the ground where he lies and feels the pain numbing his senses.  
  
He grabs hold of the garbage can in order to lift himself back up, but instead topples it over himself. He turns around and crawls towards a large dumpster, until a large booted foot stomps his hand. He cringes and feels as his whole body is lifted by the two hands.  
  
He looks into their faces, but something's off. There are six of them. All of them are young, white boys with a severe case of the 'gangsta' epidemic. The one holding him let's go of him and spin kicks him against the dumpster. Spike picks himself back up and looks at the cocky faces of his adversaries. He smiles of surprise and stands erect.  
  
Spike: "You're human."  
  
Punk leader: (scoffs) "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"  
  
Spike: "That you're way out of your league."  
  
He vamps and lunges at them, knocking three of them into the ground. The other three jump immediately after him and punch him in the back with brass knuckles. He stands abruptly and pushes them back a few feet before they jump right back at him. He grabs the first one and launches him against the dumpster, landing on top. As he turns the other two jump on top of him and hit him just as the other three that were grounded stand up and kick him.  
  
Suddenly one of them is thrown aside. He flies about thirty feet before crashing hard on the ground. The others stop and turn around to find a frail looking cadaver standing in front of them. Paralyzed with fear they're all thrown aside by simple thrusts from her leather-covered hands.  
  
They pick themselves up as fast as they can and they run away from the alley. Illyria turns towards Spike and helps him up. He shoves her hand aside abruptly and sits up, reclining against the nearby dumpster.  
  
Spike: "I'm fine, Queen. Just need a second."  
  
Illyria: "Do you want me to pursue them and inflict further pain to their bodies?"  
  
Spike: (struggling to his feet) "No." (groans) "I don't think they'll be stealing anymore purses from helpless old ladies any time soon."  
  
He looks at her and finds her gaze stuck on him.  
  
Spike: (cont.) "I'm fine... they just caught me by surprise."  
  
Illyria stares at him sharply but doesn't respond. She walks away in the direction the kids ran off. Spike follows. The hours pass and they continue their prowl. Spike attempts to clear the stench of inconformity that covers them like a shroud, by making small-talk and jokes. Illyria remains silent, focused almost entirely on the hunt.  
  
As time moves on the eventually arrive at the docks where they stop.  
  
Spike: (walks over to a pier) "Mind if I grab a smoke?"  
  
Illyria: "You do that too often. It is distracting."  
  
Spike: "Yeah, well, it's relaxing. It's almost as good as se--" (pauses and smiles) "never mind."  
  
Illyria: "We need to keep moving. There are not many hours left till sunrise and I refuse to walk the filth-ridden tunnels again."  
  
Spike: (turns towards her with a cig in his mouth) "Don't worry, Blue, we won't--" (he notices movement in a dark alley behind a warehouse) "Hang on."  
  
He throws the cigarette into the dark waters and runs towards the alley. He grabs his ribs and rubs them slightly, just as he cautiously enters the alley. He walks over to the back of the building and listens to the sounds of what seems to be chanting of some kind. He climbs on top of some boxes and peeks inside to see nearly twenty hooded figures inside.  
  
Illyria: (from behind him) "They're all human."  
  
Spike: (startled) "Bloody hell, Blue..." (whispers) "Ever heard of subtlety?"  
  
Illyria doesn't respond. She stares at him with confusion.  
  
Spike: (cont.) "Forget it." (jumps down from the boxes) "We need to call Wes here."  
  
Illyria suddenly shakes as if she had goose bump. Spike notices but quickly dismisses it. They walk out of the alley and Spike dials on his cell-phone.  
  
Spike: (anxious) "C'mon, c'mon. Pick it up, pick it up... Wes? Yeah... we're at the docks... Looks like they're gonna have a slumber party and I don't mean the kind where they braid their hairs and paint their toe nails... Yeah, we'll wait... Well hurry up then!" (hangs up)  
  
Illyria: (looking at the dark Pacific) "I take it he is on his way."  
  
Spike: "You presume correctly, Majest--"  
  
He's interrupted by cry of pain. They turn around and the smell of fear and pain slams in their faces. They run towards the back and Spike kicks the door down. The light is flickering; blood and gore adorn the floors and walls. They walk in and shock runs across his face, whereas a mixture of anger and precaution crosses hers. They move towards the mutilated corpses when they hear it. The same blood-cry he heard the night it happened.  
  
Spike: (frantically) "Oh, no. Oh God, no."  
  
Spike is paralyzed by fear. His hands shake intensely. He steps back and shoves Illyria, who is desperately trying to decipher where is it coming from. The panting becomes stronger just as it appears under the flickering light of the neon bulbs. Illyria assumes a secure position, but Spike, in his fear, slips on the blood splattered on the floor. Through its mouth it mutters some ancient words that can only mean that they are in for a great battle. It steps forward and they see it. It holds a large Katana shaped sword in his right hand.  
  
Illyria steps back a bit, just as it lunges forward, destroying the flickering light bulb with its sword; shrouding them in darkness.  
  
-- Fin. 


	14. The hurricane

Chapter XIV: The hurricane.  
  
It's cold. He feels his body go numb. Between the flashes of light he sees the faces of the paramedics monitoring his blood pressure and shouting at each other frantically as they rush him into the Operating Room. He closes his eyes and reopens them to see them exchanging instruments across him as he lies beneath them. He sees their eyes filled with tension and worry, their brows soaked in sweat from the nerves. His body quivers dramatically and he slams himself against the gurney repeatedly. The doctors put pressure on him, weighing him down with their own bodies to avoid any more injuries. The doctor to his right administers a sedative and he calms down. He hears their voices echoing in his head as he succumbs to the anesthesia and sleeps.  
  
It's cold. They had no idea what was coming. They are worried. They have faced many challenges but each time they have prevailed. This night doesn't seem to be the case. They are faced with a being that words cannot describe how intensely and incredibly powerful it is. Shrouded in darkness, they prepare to battle him. Illyria dodges the incoming swing of its sword and as its back is turned grabs hold of him from behind. She twists her lower torso and launches it through the air to the second floor of the warehouse.  
  
Spike: (lying on the ground muttering intensely to himself) "No, no, no, no, no, no. Can't win, can't win." (shouts) "L-Lyria! Get out!"  
  
He jumps to his feet and grabs Illyria just as she's headed towards the stairs. He pulls her and runs frantically towards the stairs, when he's cut off by the swing of the adversary's sword. Spike doges it by jumping backwards just as it lunges forward at him with the sword again. Spike rolls around and crawls backwards desperately seeking some room between himself and his adversary.  
  
Illyria walks up to it and swings her arms in attempt to grab hold of it, but it slams the sword on the floor and grabs hold of the hilt, swinging from it and coming full circle with its feet. Illyria gets slammed against the wall at the other end of the room, nearly sixty feet from where she was standing. She sits up and feels blood coming out of her mouth, blood darker and colder than it is humanly possible. She tries to stand up, but her chest is heaving to frantically from the strain.  
  
She pushes herself to her feet and watches as it comes twisting and twirling through the air with the sword clasped in its fingers as if it were a part of its form. She dodges by launching herself forward and rolling beneath it but immediately after falling on her feet she turns around to see the blade coming straight towards her face.  
  
Spike stands to his feet by holding to the railing on the stairs. He can't see very well and that is killing him. He desperately wants out of there. He fears this creature unlike any before he has met. He turns around and looks towards the catwalk on the second floor and gazes at a couple of metal pikes on its floor. He runs up the stairs pushing himself through the railings and slips just as he turns towards the catwalk. He holds on to the end of the railing and shoves his body against it. He runs frantically towards the pikes and grabs one from the floor, keeping up the pace from the impulse. He looks down beneath him and sees Illyria rolling beneath her attacker to his bottom left. He runs towards the wall directly at the end of the catwalk and with a fury that equals that of a thousand warriors he jump-kicks the machinery to his right launching himself, screaming, through the air with the pike coming in first against it.  
  
The adversary stops the blade just an inch away from Illyria's eyes and jumps backwards flipping through the air with such agility and grace that it amazes even them. Spike grabs Illyria by the arm just as he lands and looks her directly in the eye.  
  
Spike: "We're leaving... now!"  
  
They turn towards him and see that he's standing by the doorway, effectively blocking their escape. They turn and run towards the stairs as there are windows near the catwalk. But just as quickly as they turn it's blocking their route yet again. The speed of its breathing exceeds any that is possible. Its nose blaring a loud and rasping aspiration that makes their spines twitch. Its eyes penetrating their cold, dead hearts; stabbing them from the distance.  
  
Illyria takes up the front position leaving Spike to cower behind her; inviting their adversary to proceed with its attack. It runs at them shrieking as it swings its sword, but just as it's about to connect, Spike grabs hold of Illyria's hands and double kicks her stomach, shoving her aside, just as the blade hits the ground beside him. The adversary turns towards him and Spike pushes himself away from it by crawling through the ground. It walks towards him pacing itself and twisting and twirling its sword arrogantly.  
  
Spike's back hits a wall and the adversary grabs hold of the sword with both hands. Then without notice it spreads its legs falling to the ground just as Illyria swings the metal Spike aimed directly at its head. The adversary twists and turns towards her, swinging back to its feet. It lunges at Illyria and they fight swinging their weapons until with her brute strength and intense anger she knocks the sword out of its hands.  
  
Spike sees this but can't stand up. He tries pushing himself with his knees but they slip and he reclines on the wall, desperately trying to muster strength. Illyria swings the metal pike around as if it were a Japanese Katana until the adversary grabs hold of it and twists her arm around, breaking her elbow with the sheer power of his pull. Spike gasps in horror as the adversary grabs her by the neck, pulls her in and twists her head backwards, effectively breaking her neck in a loud crunching sound that makes him grit his teeth.  
  
Drowned in his own scream, Spike jumps towards it with anger and sorrow in his eyes. The adversary calmly picks its sword from the floor and turns towards Spike swinging it without effort. Spike dodges the subsequent blows by backing down as they come but then, as another attack comes flying at him, his back hits the wall. The adversary twists again, and just as it quickly as it comes it stops.  
  
Wes: (shouting intensely) "Norin!"  
  
The adversary turns his head around and looks at him. Its eyes gap and their darkness expose a strange emotion that perhaps it has never seen before. He looks at him with surprise. Surprise of hearing his name for the first time. Nobody that had speech to name him had ever lived long enough or was brave enough to call it out loud. Perhaps of fear bringing him forth. Or perhaps the mere notion that a being such as that had a name was too inconceivable. It was forgotten... and he thought he had forgotten too. That it had never existed.  
  
Wes: "I know why you're here."  
  
Norin turns around completely dropping the sword to his side. Spike falls flat against the wall and as he attempts to mutter words directed at Wesley, he falls to the ground and passes out; blood dripping out of his mouth and chest.  
  
The adversary looks at Wesley and he stares him down.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "I can help you, but you have to leave."  
  
Norin jerks his head to the side. A short yet loud crunching sound echoes through the warehouse.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "I need you to trust me."  
  
Norin: (in a dark, rasping voice) "T-Trust?"  
  
Wes: "I know you can understand me. Leave this place now... and I'll give you what you want."  
  
Norin: (points towards Illyria with his Katana) "Demon."  
  
Wes: "Yes... but I need her."  
  
Norin looks at Wes. Its eyes turn cold and dead. He shrieks intensely and runs towards Wes. He pulls out his twin pistols and shoots repeatedly but Norin deflects the bullets with the sword. Wes drops the guns and stretches but arms revealing twin wrist-swords. As Norin approaches Wes crosses swords with him, landing a kick in the creature's stomach. Norin jumps backwards and twirls around, using the impulse to swing its sword thus shattering both of Wes' weapons.  
  
Wesley stumbles back and Norin grabs hold of him. Wes conjures a fireball with his left hand and slams it across its face. Norin shouts in pain, but doesn't let go of him. As a result of that action, it grabs Wesley's left arm and slices it off with a clean cut from its sword. Wes eyes open wide from the shock inflicted by the pain. He falls to his knees holding his stump and watches as Norin drops his forearm in front of him.  
  
The Arathma'aet swings its sword yet once more and a line of blood paints the floor in front of Wesley. He falls to the ground and looks at the ensemble of bodies across the floor. Twenty humans, a vampire and an Old One.  
  
It's been a good night for the hunter.  
  
-- End. 


	15. The truth about the girl in Blue

Chapter XV: The truth about the girl in Blue.  
  
They rush inside the emergency room pushing the gurney with all their strength. Behind them a paramedic runs with an ice bag containing the severed hand. They storm the Operating Room and begin their work. Two hours have passed since the left forearm of Wesley Wyndham-Pryce was severed from his body and the amount of blood lost has left him completely numb and unaware of his surroundings.  
  
A beaten and bloody Spike walks into Fairfield Clinic's emergency room nearly an hour later, followed by Fred. She rushes in to the reception desk and looks around for a nurse. A large, white skinned female with a smell of old cigarettes sits in front of her with a smile on her face.  
  
Nurse: "Welcome to Fairfield Clinic. How may I--?"  
  
Fred: "Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. He was brought in just a couple of minutes ago."  
  
Nurse: "Your name, please?"  
  
Fred: "Winifred Burkle."  
  
Nurse: "And your relationship with the patient?"  
  
Fred: "I'm, uh..." (looks at Spike behind her with the corner of her eyes) "...I'm his girlfriend."  
  
Nurse: (looks at her confused) "Oh, yes. Found him, Ms. Burkle. Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Severed hand, massive blood loss?"  
  
Fred: "Yes."  
  
Nurse: "They just took him in for surgery."  
  
Fred: "Can I see him?"  
  
Nurse: (with a compassionate smile) "I'm sorry, dear. I'm afraid I can't let you. Dr. Thompson's one of our leading Doctors. I'm sure he'll be fine." (looks at her hesitation to wait) "You're more than welcome to wait for him in our waiting room down the hall." (stands up and points her in the direction)  
  
Fred looks towards the room at the end of the hallway. She looks back at the nurse and smiles shyly. Spike sees her as she walks away towards the waiting room and limps after her.  
  
Man: (from behind) "Excuse me."  
  
Spike: "Sod off, pal... just... going to sit in the bloody waiting room."  
  
Man: (he walks up to Spike) "I'm sorry, do you remember me?"  
  
Spike looks at him. Blood is still dripping from his lips and limbs. He clutches at his stomach trying to stand erectly, but the pain is too numbing for him. He nods in agreement.  
  
Man: "I-I'm Dr. Melman... I, uh, pretty much took care of you while you were here."  
  
Spike: "Yeah, I know who you are."  
  
Man: (he stares at him from top to bottom) "Is there... anything I can do? You pretty much look like you were just hit by a truck."  
  
Spike: (slightly annoyed by his presence) "Not quite, but close enough." (sighs) "I'll be alright. Just need to get to the waiting room is all."  
  
Spike starts to walk away from Dr. Melman. He limps towards the room where Fred's waiting and looks back. He notices that the doctor's gone, but, then again, the flock of people roaming the halls don't allow for much visibility. Spike shakes his head trying to retain consciousness and walks into the waiting room. He enters and finds Fred looking outside the window, alone.  
  
Fred: "I do not understand why am I compelled to wait here."  
  
Spike: (turns around and closes the door) "Maybe you've been wearing those shoes so long it may be starting to get you."  
  
Fred: "Perhaps. These feelings that I posses are very untoward of me."  
  
Spike: "I know."  
  
He walks over to a chair at the other end of the room and sits down. She puts her hand against the glass and caresses her reflection. She turns around and looks at Spike with determination.  
  
Fred: "I am leaving. I will hunt the creature that did this to me and deliver the pain it caused me tenfold unto it."  
  
Spike: (looking at the roof) "It'll kill you if you do so."  
  
Fred: "Death does not concern me. If it means that I am to fade in battle I will take it as a reward so long as I annihilate that creature."  
  
Spike: "And what makes you think that you can kill it?"  
  
Fred: (walks over to the door) "I do not have time to waste in games with you, half-breed."  
  
Spike: (looks back up to the roof) "If you're thinking that sacrificing yourself like that for the sake of your Knight-in-shining-armor is going to make him acknowledge you any more than he already does you're gonna be wasting your time."  
  
Fred: "I do not require his attention."  
  
Spike: "Oh..." (struggles up) "I think you do... desperately even."  
  
Fred: "You will be silent now or I shall--"  
  
Spike: "What? Kill me?"  
  
He slaps her in the stomach and grabs her neck, and she twitches and bends over in pain. He scoffs at her and walks back to his seat.  
  
Fred: "How dare you?"  
  
Spike: "Because I care."  
  
Fred looks at Spike and feels her entire being become heavy. Spike reaches into his pockets and pulls out a box of cigarettes. He takes one out and puts it on his lips. He takes the packet and puts back on his coat, just as he takes out the lighter from the same pocket. He stares at it as he fiddles with it in his fingers. He takes a moment to ponder and sees Fred standing by the window again. He stares at her for a couple of seconds then lights the cig.  
  
Spike: "Feels heavy, uh?"  
  
Illyria stares into the darkness outside.  
  
Spike: (cont.) "The weight of what she was... what she still is?"  
  
Fred: (without looking away) "Yes."  
  
Spike: (puts the lighter back in his coat) "Whatever feelings you have for him are only going to get you more grief, luv. It's not worth it."  
  
Fred: "I do not have feelings towards Wesley."  
  
Spike: "Really? Then why is it he's the only person that you call on a first name basis?"  
  
Fred: (looks at him) "He has proven himself worthy of me pronouncing his name."  
  
Spike: (stares into her eyes and pauses) "You have no idea how powerful those hazel eyes are, Blue." (drags from the cig and swipes his pants) "Those aren't yours... they belong to her."  
  
Fred: "Fred's memories are assimilated with mine. They belong to me just as much as they did to her."  
  
Spike: "I'm not talking about memories."  
  
Fred: "What are you implying, half-breed?"  
  
Spike: "You're falling for him."  
  
Fred: (agitated) "I should tear your tongue from your mouth for--"  
  
Spike: (slightly angered) "Do yourself a favor and drop the bloody act. You're in no position to be threatening people right now and you know it."  
  
Fred looks at him and lowers her head. She turns towards the window and stares outside. Spike scoffs at her and sits down. He takes another drag and then turns it off on a magazine rack beside him.  
  
Fred: "Perhaps you are right."  
  
Spike: (sniffs) "What's that?"  
  
Fred turns towards him shrouded in misery.  
  
Spike: "Oh... right. Listen, Blue, Wesley'll always love Fred and there's nothing that you can do that will change that. He would've died instead of her if he'd had the chance."  
  
Fred: "You love her as well."  
  
Spike: (smiles) "Yes... I do."  
  
Fred: "I've... I've become appeased with this world. It is unpredictable and unstable, yet compassionate and intriguing. It feels... small. But the vastness of emotions these primitives' possess is overwhelming."  
  
Spike: "It just means they're human. They've got their souls... that's what allows them to--"  
  
He looks at her for a moment and suddenly feels cold and nervous.  
  
Spike: "Look, um..." (stands up) "...I'll be outside if you, um... I'll go get some fresh air and--"  
  
Fred: (turns back towards the window) "You do not require air, half-breed."  
  
Spike: "Right, I'll..."  
  
He trails off and walks outside, limping with a faster pace than before. He passes the reception desk of the emergency room and heads towards the doors, when they open. Lindsey walks in and finds Spike face to face.  
  
Spike: (surprised) "What the bloody hell are you--?"  
  
Lindsey: "Any word on Wes?"  
  
Spike: "Don't know. I haven't asked."  
  
Lindsey: (looks up and down at him with a raised eyebrow) "Huh. What? Did you get hit by a truck or something?"  
  
Spike: "Not quite... been meaning to ask Percy as soon as he wakes up."  
  
Lindsey: "He's in surgery?"  
  
Spike: "Last I heard." (pauses) "You wouldn't happen to know what the hell was that thing that nearly ripped us to pieces, would you?"  
  
Lindsey: "Actually that's just what I wanted to talk to him about."  
  
Spike: "Yeah, I figured you here didn't mean 'Get well soon' cards and flowers."  
  
Lindsey: "Yeah, well, all the best florists close at 9 pm today... kind of hard to find any open ones at 4 am."  
  
Spike: "Well, I don't know about you, but I'd like to move this snappy conversation to a more secure place."  
  
Lindsey: (smiling) "That's okay, don't worry. Wolfram & Hart own the building."  
  
Spike: (scoffs) "That's lovely, Cactus Jack."  
  
Lindsey smiles and as ha passes right by Spike he slaps him in his arm. He doesn't respond, he just cringes at the pain emitted by the slap. He follows Lindsey into the waiting room, but finds it empty. Illyria's gone.  
  
-- Fini. 


	16. Killing ancient fiends for Dummies

Chapter XVI: 'Killing ancient fiends for Dummies'.  
  
He sleeps. The smell of potpourri is intoxicating, as well as it is relaxing for him. It flows through the room with ease and he draws it in through his nostrils quietly as he dreams. He has been out of it for hours. Taken by the power of the sedatives. Lindsey comes into his room and knocks on the door slightly.  
  
Lindsey: "Can I come in?"  
  
He walks over to the bed, holding a paper cup with steam curling out from its top. He seats by him and sets the cup beside the bed.  
  
Lindsey: "Wes?"  
  
Wes: (eyes closed) "I've been fighting the urge to urinate for two hours. I can't move my arms and I'm still groggy from the anesthesia." (turns his head towards him and slowly opens his eyes) "Can this wait till tomorrow?"  
  
Lindsey: (snickers) "You got lucky, book worm."  
  
Wes: "How so?"  
  
Lindsey: "They managed to reattach the arm with consequence. You should be good to go in about..." (looks at his wrist watch) "...ten hours or so."  
  
Wes: "They didn't use demon shamans, did they?"  
  
Lindsey: (snickers) "No. Apparently there were a couple of complaints filed for malfunction. Just your everyday ancient, demonic potion."  
  
Wes: "Well, that's encouraging."  
  
Lindsey: (looks at him intently) "Look, if it makes you feel any better, between the two of us we've lost both arms."  
  
Wes: "Oh... that's right... how's that working out for you?"  
  
Lindsey: "It's been working out fine for the past three years Wes."  
  
Wes: (looks back at the ceiling and closes his eyes) "That's good. Should come in handy."  
  
Lindsey: "Wes... Illyria's gone."  
  
Wes opens his eyes and looks straight at the ceiling. Lindsey notices his worry.  
  
Lindsey: (cont.) "Spike talked to her and went outside for a smoke. We ran into each other in the hall and went back to the room where he left her. She was gone."  
  
Wes: "How much time since--?"  
  
Lindsey: "About two hours ago."  
  
Wes: "She's going after Norin."  
  
Lindsey: "Our thoughts exactly. Spike went after her, but there isn't much he can do. Sunrise was forty-five minutes ago."  
  
Wes: "Unless he tracks her through the sewers. That could afford him more time."  
  
Lindsey: "He's not gonna find her if she doesn't want to be found."  
  
Wes: "Oh, I'm well aware of that."  
  
Lindsey: "So I guess now's the time, huh?"  
  
Wes: (with a heavy heart) "Yes... finally."  
  
Lindsey: "Very well. I'll go get them ready, then."  
  
He stands from his chair and walks towards the door. He stops and turns around.  
  
Lindsey: "You sure you want to go through with this?"  
  
Wes: "More than anything."  
  
Lindsey: "There's some coffee there for you. Thought you might want something to drink."  
  
Wes: "Thanks..."  
  
Lindsey nods uncertainly. He walks out of the room and walks towards the end of the hall. As he turns around the corner, Spike rears his head from behind a door next to Wes' room. He walks in and notices Wes cursing from the distasteful coffee. He shuts the door and Wes looks at him, who puts the coffee down and sits straight in his bed.  
  
Spike: "You might wanna tell me what the hell was that all about before I get jumpy."  
  
Wes: "It's the coffee. It's from a diner outside the city." (coughs) "Bloody awful, is what it is."  
  
Spike: "Who or what the hell's Norin?"  
  
Wes shrugs. Spike becomes ever more impatient and walks over to the bed.  
  
Spike: "It sliced your bloody arm off after you called its name!! What is it?"  
  
Wes: "I don't know--"  
  
Spike: "Oh, that's bollocks and you know it."  
  
Wes: "-- what exactly he is."  
  
Spike: "Oh." (looks away embarrassed, then quickly back at Wes) "What do you know of him?"  
  
Wes: "He was forged in the Dawn."  
  
Spike: (confused) "Dawn? (realizing its meaning) "Oh, Creatio--"  
  
He goes cold. He feels the chills coming from his spine and he shakes his head in disbelief.  
  
Wes: "His purpose is to create balance between Chaos and Order."  
  
Spike: "Come again?"  
  
Wes: "It annihilates beings from whichever side tipped the scales until there's balance. In this case--"  
  
Spike: "Evil."  
  
Wes: "Yes."  
  
Spike feels his heart sink. He looks at Wes and he can barely see tears forming in his eyes.  
  
Spike: "Angel..."  
  
Wes: "Yes."  
  
Spike looks behind him and drops onto the couch that is sitting behind him. He rubs his hands and looks back at Wes.  
  
Spike: "He's here 'cause Angel's--"  
  
Wes: "Dead."  
  
Spike: "But, if it's hunting evil, why did it attack us?"  
  
Wes: (breathes deeply) "Demons."  
  
Spike: (sits back) "Right." (ponders for a moment) "Can it be killed?"  
  
Wes: "Our research--"  
  
Spike: (sharply) "You and Lindsey's?"  
  
Wes: "-- only indicates to one event where it was slayed."  
  
Spike: "It was killed by a Slayer?"  
  
Wes: "Ironically, by her Watcher. He used a Krollic bomb to kill it."  
  
Spike: "A what?"  
  
Wes: "It's a device that liquefies anything within a fifty feet radius. They were all killed."  
  
Spike: "How did he come back from that?"  
  
Wes: "We don't know. That was the last recording of Norin, before now."  
  
Spike: "When is it from?"  
  
Wes: "I think it was the year 7,634 B.C."  
  
Spike: "Huh." (pauses) "Any chance that there's another Krollic bomb-thing here?"  
  
Wes: "Lindsey tried to acquire one but couldn't get it through customs."  
  
Spike: "Oh, come on. If Gunn could get Illyria's coffin out of customs, Lindsey can--"  
  
Wes: "It exploded, Spike. That's why we couldn't get it here. Killed thirty- six people."  
  
Spike: "Oh."  
  
They both remain silent. Wesley observes as Spike wrestles with the information that he just received with great interest.  
  
Wes: "Did you manage to get a trail of Illyria?"  
  
Spike: "I think you already know the answer to that."  
  
They look at each other and Spike stands up. He walks towards the door and looks through its small window.  
  
Spike: (looks back at him) "Are you planning on telling me what are you gonna do with Lindsey?"  
  
Wes: "You'll know soon."  
  
Spike: (looks back out the window) "I'm gonna hit the tunnels again... see if I can get a trail of Big Blue before she gets sliced in two."  
  
Wes: "Very well."  
  
He opens the door and looks back at Wes.  
  
Spike: "I hope you know what you're doing."  
  
He walks out of the room with clear determination in his eyes. He sneaks into the boiler room and drops into the sewers of Los Angeles.  
  
She enters the warehouse that had seen her greatest defeat without hesitation. The floors and walls have been cleaned out. There isn't even a faint smell of blood to be perceived. She walks slowly through it and looks at the catwalk upstairs. She goes up the stairs pacing herself cautiously but hastily and notices a small opening behind some broken machinery. She drops in and falls beside a cesspool.  
  
The stench hits her as she stands and she's taken aback. She walks around and hears a loud banging on a metallic surface. She turns around quickly, expecting an attack when she hears it. A loud moaning coming from behind a broken wall. She approaches and notices a glint that pierces her eyes, leaving her blinded for seconds. She steps back and opens her eyes just in time to see the hilt of the sword hit coming straight at her face.  
  
-- Teleute. 


	17. The girl in the padded room

Chapter XVII: The girl in the padded room.  
  
Ruler. God. King.  
  
She was everything... she was all...  
  
They look at her from afar. They do not understand. Everything came to be as it should have. They gaze at her with intrigue and doubt in their minds. He cuts through them and walks towards her. The room is small. Not much larger than your average hospital room.  
  
He steps in and orders them out of the room. He's fearful. His hands are soaked in sweat, trembling dramatically. He walks up to her and says her name. She doesn't respond. She scratches the wall, crouched in the corner, her head twitching sporadically. He crouches in front of her and holds her hands but she refuses to look at him. His eyes are slowly overflowing with tears of joy and doubt and fear. His lips tremble, desperately seeking her answers. He says her name again... she doesn't respond.  
  
Illyria awakens in the laboratory in Wolfram & Hart. She looks at her arms and she's confined to the table. A man wearing a lab coat approaches her. He tells her that it is too soon to be out and about, but patience is lacking and she strips the shackles that confine her. She sits up on the table and drops to the ground. As her feet make contact with the floor, she feels as if she's rapidly sinking. She looks around but the world looks differently than before. More hollow and dark, yet bigger... somehow. The man in the coat conveys to her a message from his leader. He tells her that she is to stay in the lab until he can come for her. Illyria dismisses the comment and leaves in search for answers.  
  
Silence...  
  
Two days have passed since she fought him...  
  
Wesley's standing outside a room looking at her from the cover of a large bullet-proof, one-way window. She stands around the room awkwardly. She holds her hands up to her neck and attempts to walk. Her legs give every four steps. She's like a child and he watches over her... looking out for her, observing her, analyzing her. Spike walks behind him and looks at her over his shoulder.  
  
Spike: (steps beside him) "What do you think she's thinking about?"  
  
Wes: "Probably nothing. Her mind seems to be... jumbled at best. Every thought she ever processed is rushing through her mind at an incredible rate. I don't think she can pick one out of the den."  
  
Spike: (puts his hands against the glass) "I can't believe it... it's just..."  
  
Wes: "It'll take time to get used to."  
  
Spike: "To what? Seeing her act like a bloody retard?!?"  
  
Wesley shuts his eyes. He backs down and sits in a couch that's been put behind them for a more comfortable experience in observation.  
  
Spike: (voice breaking, looking at her) "What the hell did you do to her?"  
  
Wes: (with disbelief in his voice) "I had... I brought her back to me, Spike"  
  
Spike: "How?"  
  
Wes: "Illyria."  
  
Spike turns around and looks at him angrily in the eye.  
  
Wes: (voice breaking) "Why didn't it work?"  
  
Spike: "Tell me... everything. Or I swear I'll tear you to pieces before you can even blink an eye."  
  
Wes: (looks at him sharply, eyes welled up) "I... yes... you deserve to know."  
  
He lies back on the couch and then leans forward again, trying to find a more suitable position. He takes a breath then looks back at Spike.  
  
Wes: "After I lost Fred, I lost my mind. I couldn't think. I couldn't sleep. Everything... reminded me of her."  
  
He pauses and looks at her. She's standing inches away from the glass looking at it with dead eyes. He looks into hers and then chokes s he tries to take another deep breath.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "I became... obsessed, at best, with Illyria. She was... fascinating, to say the least." (pauses) "As the weeks passed I became increasingly aware of how easily affected she was by my words. She developed certain questionable character traits that seemed highly unlikely for a being of her stature."  
  
Spike: "Yeah, we all noticed that. What's it got to do with this?"  
  
Wes: "When I first heard that Fred's soul was destroyed I took it to heart. You felt it too. The emptiness inside Illyria. You don't need heightened senses to know that. But after the incident with Cyvus Vail, Dr. Sparrow's words got me thinking. He said that Fred's souls was--"  
  
Spike: "--consumed by the fires of resurrection."  
  
Wes: "He said that everything of hers was gone, but he never said it was destroyed. Matter cannot be destroyed, only transformed. It's one of the principal laws of physics and the Universe."  
  
Spike looks at him with confusion. He turns around and sees her standing in front of the wall at the opposite end of the room, looking at the roof. Her legs tremble underneath the hospital clothes she's wearing.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "After what happened with Vail, many things came to me. Reality was twisted yet again and many truths that had been locked away came back. Illyria's increasing respect and admiration for me was turning into affection. Case in point her transformation into Fred during the Burkles visit to Wolfram & Hart."  
  
Spike: "I thought that was like a veil or something. A, what do you call it? A... glamour."  
  
Wes: "So did I, but the manipulation of her dormant memories of Fred, as well as changing her form to hers, allowed for Fred to take over her."  
  
Spike: (confused) "Fred?"  
  
Wes: "A soul is matter, Spike. And matter cannot be destroyed. What Dr. Sparrow's words meant was that her soul had merged with Illyria's. It was sacrificed so that Illyria's essence could take form of its own. But the strain of learning that her followers were all dead, and eventually losing most of her strength and powers allowed for her to view the World from a more humane perspective. Making her want to be human."  
  
Spike: "Are you telling me that Fred's soul's been inside Blue all this long?"  
  
Wes: "Yes... everything that was Fred is Illyria's. Her emotions, her thoughts, her ideas, her feelings. Her soul."  
  
Spike turns towards Fred and sees her crouched on the ground, bobbing her head slowly.  
  
Spike: (points towards her) "How did this happen?"  
  
Wes: (stands up and remains beside him) "The research I did on Illyria was quite extensive. I found a way to strip the soul out from Illyria without damaging it. Unfortunately, the influence it had on her remains impregnated in her. She retains everything."  
  
Spike: "Played Solomon with a soul instead of a baby... takes balls."  
  
Wes: (looks at him, then back at Fred) "In order to get the soul out we had to incapacitate Illyria. Unfortunately she would've been extremely reluctant to allow for this to happen willingly, so I had to find a way to get it out of her without her knowing."  
  
Spike: (looks at him sharply) "Norin."  
  
Wes: "After Angel sacrificed himself to the Senior Partners, I realized that a great chaos was to come. Balance had to be attained. I remembered stories at the Watcher's Council when I was seven years old. During the retreats I would sneak into the older kids' cabin and listen to their stories. One such story was the one of the Death Dealer. After that I researched it extensively during my free-time, but school work took priority so I eventually stopped." (realizing his off-topic he shrugs and continues) "Anyway, after Order lost one of its greatest warriors, the Arathma'aet is brought forth to wipe the slate clean... bring the world back into balance."  
  
Spike: "You knew he would attack Illyria since it smelled 'Old One' all over her, didn't you?"  
  
Wes: (reluctantly) "Yes."  
  
Spike: (looking at Fred) "What about her?"  
  
Wes: "Her body was... cloned, I guess is the right word."  
  
Spike: "Where did you get the--?"  
  
Wes: "From the lab. From when she was shot last year."  
  
Spike leans forward. He sees her lying on the floor, wiping it with her hands. He closes his eyes and chokes back the tears.  
  
Spike: "What about Lindsey?"  
  
Wes: (breathes deeply) "After he took over Wolfram & Hart, I approached him about this. He agreed to do it on the condition that I help him with a problem of his own."  
  
Spike: "And that may be?"  
  
Wes: "Senior Partners erased his memories when they took him away. He wants the information he had back. I agreed to help him get it back if he did this for me."  
  
Spike: (taps the wall as he leans against it) "And her? How long till she gets back on track?"  
  
Wes: "It's very hard to say. Lindsey had her body in cryogenic stasis, until we had Illyria in to extract the soul. She should've just come back." (voice breaks) "I don't... I don't--"  
  
Spike: "I do."  
  
Wesley looks at Spike just as he clobbers him with his right fist. He tumbles to the ground and Spike picks him back up. He punches him in the face again and Wes falls on the couch.  
  
Spike: (sharply, but without shouting) "I know why this didn't work. It's not your bloody right to go behind our backs the way you did. You wanted her back, but you forgot to take into account every other sod that loved her as well, you stupid, pathetic, candy-ass." (points to Fred, tears running down his cheeks) "This is what you got for messing with things you had no right for. You got her back... just to suffer as a drooling carrot." (pauses) "I would kill you right were you are, but for her sake I won't. I just hope Illyria can take this as well as me."  
  
He walks away leaving Wesley to pick himself back up. He sits and sees her lying on the floor and tears fill his eyes. He breathes deeply, regretting everything that has happened, praying desperately for her to come back to him. He stands up and walks away towards the glass and leans against it, when he feels her behind him. He stands erect and turns around, meeting her baby blue eyes as he turns his gaze.  
  
-- Fin. 


	18. The Alpha of the Omega

Chapter XVIII: The Alpha of the Omega.  
  
The contract is lying right in front of him. He's been staring at it blankly for nearly fifteen minutes straight, hardly blinking at all. He takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes. Shaking his head he leans forward from his chair and grabs the contract in his hands. He looks at the signatures written in blood. He looks at his name at the bottom of the page and bites his lip.  
  
His phone beeps, startling him. He looks at it for a moment and puts the contract down on the desk again. He takes another deep breath and presses the button on the phone that connects him with his secretary just as it beeps again.  
  
Lindsey: "Yeah?"  
  
Harmony: "Um, boss?"  
  
Lindsey: "Yeah. What is it, Harmony?"  
  
Harmony: "You're six o'clock is here."  
  
Lindsey: "Send him in."  
  
Harmony: "Sure thing, boss."  
  
He presses another button in the phone's pad and after another annoying beep the transmission from twenty-five feet away from him is cut. He stands up and picks up files and papers from the desk and sets them up in a pile to his left. As he does this, the doors open and Harmony enters followed by Wesley. Lindsey looks at him, slightly nodding his head from the nerves.  
  
Harmony: "Well, here you are, Wes." (pauses awkwardly) "Have fun."  
  
She shrugs and walks out of the office. Wes stares at her with an uneasy smile through the windows then looks at Lindsey. He scratches the back of his head and waves his arms towards the chairs in front of the desk and Wes walks over to them, keeping an odd stare fixed on Lindsey's eyes.  
  
Wesley sits and looks awkwardly outside then back at him. Lindsey follows his gaze then looks at him as well.  
  
Lindsey: "She makes good coffee."  
  
Wes chuckles slightly.  
  
Lindsey: (breathes deeply) "I take it you're here about my contract."  
  
Wes: "How did you know?"  
  
Lindsey: "Cause that's what you said when you called."  
  
Wes: "Figured you weren't really listening."  
  
Lindsey: "Want some coffee before we begin?"  
  
Wes looks around the office cautiously.  
  
Lindsey: (cont.) "It's okay. Nobody's here."  
  
Wes: "No, but the security in this place has improved since we left."  
  
He stands up and walks towards the window. He puts his hand against the glass and looks back at Lindsey, who's looking around the office as well.  
  
Wes: "Hungry?"  
  
Lindsey: "Yeah, a bit. I can call some--"  
  
Wes: "Come one. I'll buy."  
  
Lindsey scratches his right eyebrow and looks at him suspiciously. He stands up and points towards the elevator as a gesture to follow him. Wes puts his hands in his pocket and follows him in. Harmony walks into the office just as the elevator door shuts.  
  
Harmony: (surprised) "Lindsey?"  
  
She looks around the office and walks into the conference room. As soon as she realizes they're gone she puts a smile on her lips and walks out. As soon as she opens the double doors leading to the lobby, she jumps back, startled, as Hamilton appears standing before her.  
  
Hamilton: "Hello, Harmony. Lindsey in?"  
  
Harmony: (nervously) "Um, n-no. He, uh, he just left apparently. With Wes."  
  
Hamilton: (suspiciously) "Mr. Wyndham-Pryce was here."  
  
Harmony: "Y-Yes. He came in just awhile ago."  
  
Hamilton: (smiles) "Well, that's very good to hear." (turns around and walks towards the elevators) "Have a nice night, Mrs. Kendall."  
  
He walks up to the elevators and the middle one opens as soon as he steps in front of it. He walks in and turns around with a slight grin on his lips as the door closes. Harmony sighs from relief as soon as she hears the elevator go down. She walks over to her desk and starts to pick up her things when she grasps her hands together nervously. She sits on her chair and looks towards the elevators, waiting.  
  
Wes I standing outside a diner outside of the city limits. He looks towards his right, towards two bright eyes speeding away from Los Angeles. Lindsey parks a dark-grey colored Porsche right beside Wesley's Cherokee. He opens the door and steps out, looking somewhat astonished at the place. Wes walks up to him.  
  
Lindsey: (staring at the locale from behind Wes' shoulders) "What the hell's this place?"  
  
Wes: (smiles) "Where we'll put matters to a close."  
  
-- Fin. 


	19. Architectural designings

Chapter XIX: Architectural designings.  
  
The steam of the hot coffee hits him like a brick to the face. He rubs his eyes and looks up at the waitress. She's a middle-aged, large, red-head in a severe need of make-up tips. He smiles at her and grabs the cup of coffee. He picks the sugar container and releases an oddly large sum of the grain into the black liquid held within the cup. He picks up a spoon and stirs the contents while the waitress serves a cup of coffee to his companion.  
  
Waitress: "Well, what's it going to be, boys?"  
  
Wes: (taking the cup from her hands) "I think I'll have a Pastrami sandwich."  
  
Waitress: "We're out of Pastrami at the moment, hon."  
  
Wes: "Well, then I'll have a Midnight without pickles."  
  
Waitress: (writing on a pad) "No pickles. The rest as it comes?"  
  
Wes: "Yes. Thank you."  
  
Waitress: (to Lindsey) "And you? What're you having?"  
  
Lindsey: "I'll have a bacon, cheeseburger. Sans onions."  
  
Waitress: "Alright then. I'll be back in a little while."  
  
She puts the note-pad in one of her apron's pockets and grabs the coffee pot from the table. She walks away from the table leaving them alone in the back of the diner.  
  
Lindsey: (picks up the cup) "Nice cliché of a place."  
  
Wes: "It works perfectly for what we're going to be doing."  
  
Lindsey: (takes a sip) "Yeah. I know. Coffee could be better, though."  
  
Wes: "You could've asked for something different."  
  
Lindsey: "It's alright. Needed a caffeine kick anyways."  
  
They both take a sip from their respective cups almost simultaneously. Lindsey looks at Wes then at the waitress at the other end of the diner, taking orders from a couple that arrived nigh two minutes ago.  
  
Lindsey: "So this is where everything will be laid down?"  
  
Wes: "You could say that."  
  
Lindsey: "How many meetings a week?"  
  
Wes: "One." (takes another sip from his cup)  
  
Lindsey: "One?"  
  
Wes: "Yes. Shouldn't take too much time before everything begins."  
  
Lindsey: (sharply) "You brought her?"  
  
Wes: "She came willingly, which isn't really a surprise. I didn't even ask her to come."  
  
Lindsey: "Who else came?"  
  
Wes: "Spike."  
  
Lindsey: "Does he know?"  
  
Wes: "No."  
  
Lindsey: "I don't know if that's good or bad."  
  
Wes: "It's neither."  
  
Lindsey: "Hmph."  
  
Wes: "What?"  
  
Lindsey: "Just..."  
  
Wes: "Having second thoughts?"  
  
Lindsey: "No, just... if I do this I'm gonna need more than just what's in the contract."  
  
Wes: "What do you want?"  
  
Lindsey: (ponders on the question then looks at him) "How are you doing this?"  
  
Wes: (taking a sip from the coffee) "Excuse me?"  
  
Lindsey: "Sorry. That came out wrong." (pauses) "No... wait. It didn't."  
  
Wes: "Are you referring as to why I'm here?"  
  
Lindsey: "I think so."  
  
Wes: "When Angel gave you the reigns to Wolfram & Hart he knew he wasn't going to come back. Before he left England I talked to him about Illyria and what I had discovered and he left me with a promise to do what I have to in order to bring Fred back. We had discussed the matter as best we could and decided to give you the keys to the castle. We figured you had the most possibilities to be allowed control of the firm by the Partners."  
  
Lindsey: "Yeah, I know that already. I'm just a figure-head." (picks up the cup) "How about telling me something I don't know?"  
  
Wes: "In the contract you signed it reads that in order to get the company you would first have to do certain tasks in my service. You signed the document with your own blood which prevents you from backing out of this."  
  
Lindsey: "What? You put a hex on the paper or something?"  
  
Wes: (sharply) "Yes."  
  
Lindsey: (slightly shocked) "Oh."  
  
Wes: "The Senior Partners think that you just played your part in this because you were under the threat of Angel. They believe that you were just a peon in his game and that is why they allowed for you to take over."  
  
Lindsey: "Yeah, but that doesn't mean they aren't suspicious. They got Hamilton set up as liaison."  
  
Wes: "He's just continuing to play his role from previous rounds. He never left so there's really no need to change his role."  
  
Lindsey: "Figured as much."  
  
Wes: "I'm sure you did."  
  
Waitress: (coming from behind Wes) "Here you go, boys?"  
  
She stands in front of their table with two plates, one on each hand.  
  
Waitress: "Midnight without pickles..." (puts it in front of Wes) "...here you go. And a bacon, cheeseburger for you." (puts the plate in front of Lindsey) "Anything else?"  
  
Wes: "Yes. I'd like a refill, please."  
  
Waitress: (picks up his cup, then at Lindsey) "Another one for you too?"  
  
Lindsey: "No. I, uh, I'll take a Pepsi. Thanks."  
  
Waitress: "We don't have Pepsi."  
  
Lindsey: "Oh, well, I guess I'll--"  
  
Waitress: "Can bring you a Coke, though."  
  
Lindsey: (smiling) "Thanks."  
  
Waitress: "I'll be right back."  
  
She leaves with Wes' coffee cup. He turns his head and sees her as she walks away.  
  
Wes: (looks at Lindsey) "Bon appetite."  
  
Lindsey: "Ditto." (takes a large bite of his burger)  
  
They eat for the following minutes, neither saying a single word to one another. During the interval the waitress approaches them and hands Wes his cup of coffee. She tells Lindsey that they're out of Coke at the moment so he asks for anything else that's not coffee. After she leaves, she reappears with a glass of 7-Up in her hand.  
  
Waitress: "Here you go. Sorry for the lack of kidney stones inducer." (smiles and walks away)  
  
Lindsey: "I take it she hasn't had a very fulfilling life."  
  
Wes: (swallows a piece of his sandwich) "Look at where she's working."  
  
Lindsey: "My point exactly."  
  
Lindsey takes another bite of his burger. Ketchup drips from his teeth as he sinks them on the bun. He takes a napkin quickly and wipes his face as he chews. Wes takes in the final piece of his sandwich and wipes his hands on the napkin he had set on his thighs. He drops a considerate amount of sugar into his coffee cup and stirs it. He looks over at Lindsey just as he reclines on his seat after finishing his burger.  
  
Wes: "I take it you're satisfied?"  
  
Lindsey: "If only they made the coffee as good as they make the food."  
  
Wes: "It takes time to adjust."  
  
Lindsey: "You're using this place's coffee as a metaphor of us?"  
  
Wes: "Not quite... although it is kind of fitting, if you think about it."  
  
Lindsey: "Hmph. Yeah."  
  
Wes: "So? About your compensation?"  
  
Lindsey: "I need to find Eve."  
  
Wesley looks at him dubiously.  
  
Lindsey: (cont.) "I already have search teams looking for her. I need to find her before I do this, Wes."  
  
Wes: "Very well."  
  
Lindsey: "It shouldn't take much time anyways."  
  
Wes: "Again. No problem in that."  
  
Lindsey: "I need you to give me back the information the Partners took away from me."  
  
Wes: "Your memories?"  
  
Lindsey: "Yes."  
  
Wes: "They altered your memories?"  
  
Lindsey: "More like erased them. I checked every source that I have on this. The memories, the information I had on the Partners is gone."  
  
Wes: "The Apocalypse?"  
  
Lindsey: "No." (pauses) "The ones on how they're going to do it."  
  
Wes: "Did you check with Eve?"  
  
Lindsey: (slightly agitated) "You mean after Angel took me out of that cell he had me in for a nearly a month or before I told her to run away?"  
  
Wes stares at him.  
  
Lindsey: (cont.) "She didn't know anything. Only the basics."  
  
Wes: "Which you already know."  
  
Lindsey: "Mm-hmm."  
  
Wes: "Very well. I'll do it... but only after you help me bring back Fred. Not a moment sooner."  
  
Lindsey: (shrugs) "Fine."  
  
Wes: "Anything else?"  
  
Lindsey: "Are you sure he'll come?"  
  
Wes: (coldly) "Yes."  
  
Lindsey feels a sudden chill up his spine. He grabs the glass of 7-Up but feels it burn on his palm from the chill. He takes a sip through the straw and sets it down on the table. He looks at it straight and turns it around, looking directly at the ice cubes floating inside.  
  
Wes: "Are you alright?"  
  
Lindsey: "Mm?" (looks at him) "Yeah, um, what about Spike? He could prove to be a liability."  
  
Wes: "I'm still not sure why he came."  
  
Lindsey: "What do you think it is?"  
  
Wes: "He wasn't keen on coming back here. Then after the arrow-thing I was pretty shocked he didn't even try to kill me after he healed back."  
  
Lindsey: "Wait. What arrow thing?"  
  
Wes: "I shot him four times with a bow. One on the hip, one on the stomach, another in his shoulder and one in the chest."  
  
Lindsey: "Why the hell'd you do that?"  
  
Wes: "To make him realize that he's never going to measure anything more than the status of wise-cracking side-kick."  
  
Lindsey: "Tough love, huh?"  
  
Wes: "I guess you can put it that way."  
  
Lindsey: (smiling) "Yeah, but something tells me you did it just to shut him up."  
  
Wes: (picks up the coffee cup) "That too. But you never heard it from me." (drinks from it)  
  
Lindsey laughs. The two of them sit there through the rest of the night. Talking. Making jokes. Drinking 7-Up and lackluster coffee. They are preparing for something that makes them shiver in panic. Fear of failure is the foremost feeling shared by these two human souls. Failure is unacceptable at this juncture. Failure... something they both know all too well.  
  
It began with a cup of coffee...  
  
-- End. 


	20. Close encounters

**_Author's Note:_**

_Hello all. Just wanted to take a minute and say a much deserved thank you to everybody that has supported my fics. Your positive response towards them is the driving force behind them._

_Also, I'd like to take a moment and answer some of the queries that have been presented in the reviews, mainly the ones concerning the order of the events. The purpose of writing a story based on the Whedonverse, to me, is to honor the characters and their creator. I don't see the purpose of writing a mystery in which the events all take place in order. A rich and intriguing mystery is written by exposing enough truths at just the right moments and in just the right quantities. I've taken great pride in writing the flashback scenes as detailed as possible so there's no confusion in which point in time did they happen. Of course, I can see how that may have been a bit confusing and misleading in the beginning, but as the story progressed it became more and more obvious the reasons why I was doing it._

_I have been planning 'Wolves' for months before I actually started writing it. Everything here has been completely deliberate and done with the intention of telling a good story. I trust I have done that to the best of my abilities._

_As far as where the story is going, well, this is the penultimate chapter (although I'm still considering drawing it out for two more chapters instead of just the one). Will there be a follow-up to it? Of course there will. The characters will go through major changes through these next chapters and by the end something will happen that I asure will have everybody in fits, but very keen on finding out what, why and how it happened. So be warned... these next chapters are going to be bloody, powerful and just downright brutal... and I wouldn't have it any other way._

_Thanks again to those that have supported me. And thank you to those that read this story._

_Now without further ado, roll on the following chapter:_

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter XX: Close encounters.  
  
Her knuckles crack under the pressure she applies. She looks at him and her body trembles. He smiles shyly, trying hard to hide his tears. He sniffs softly and chuckles quietly. Illyria's eyes burn with rage. He looks around the room and then back at her.  
  
Wes: "I guess you came to gloat, huh?"  
  
Illyria doesn't respond.  
  
Wes: (sniffs) "How much did you hear?"  
  
Illyria doesn't respond.  
  
Wes: (baffled) "Silent treatment?"  
  
He rapidly shakes his head then looks at her directly into her eyes and walks over to the couch. Her body remains motionless, but her gaze follows him like a shadow. He sits down and sighs as he lies back on it. He scratches his knee and then his right sideburn.  
  
Wes: "I did what I thought was right."  
  
Illyria turns her head towards him.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "Should've known it wasn't going to work. Couldn't even bring her back right."  
  
He looks at Illyria beside him and goose bumps run through his spine as he does.  
  
Wes: (looks back at Fred) "I apologize for taking advantage you like that." (pauses) "Do with that what you will."  
  
Illyria looks back at Fred. She's on the farthest corner of the padded room. She's crouched and scratching her head against the wall.  
  
Illyria: (walks towards the window) "What is wrong with her?"  
  
Wes: "Her body was cloned and... do you understand that term? Cloned?"  
  
Illyria: (looks back at Wes) "I... don't know... everything feels as if it's shrouded in fog."  
  
Wes: "Think hard."  
  
Illyria: (after a pause, looks back at Fred) "To produce an offspring asexually from an individual by utilizing its genetic information."  
  
Wes: (smiles) "That's one way of putting it."  
  
Illyria looks back at him seriously.  
  
Wes: "Yes, well, ahem... since her body was cloned it was put in cryogenic stasis. It was made of Fred's blood so that is her... but everything that was her before... it was inside of you. You've felt it... you've known for a long time, but you've been too ashamed to come forth about it."  
  
Illyria looks back at Fred.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "I did extensive research on this. This was the first time something like this had ever happened. Your mind contained every memory that made Fred who she was, but most importantly... your body contained her soul... fractured and scattered throughout your being. We needed to get it out. All of it."  
  
Illyria: (staring blankly at Fred) "Then why do I--?"  
  
Wes: "Because everything that was hers was yours. When you took over her... she took over you. That's why you're in love with me."  
  
Illyria looks at him suddenly over her shoulder.  
  
Wes: "There was no way you could've hidden it for much longer, Illyria. I've known for a long time."  
  
She turns completely towards him. He remains silent for a moment then breathes deeply as he stares at the window.  
  
Wes: (shrugs) "Everything was supposed to work. We planned every detail... every scenario." (pauses) "It was flawed... I see that now."  
  
She observes him with interest, slowly calming herself. His eyes well up and he stabs his knees with his fingernails.  
  
Wes: (sniffs) "The strain caused by the implantation of her memories and her soul on her brain was too great. She broke down..." (scoffs) "...literally."  
  
Illyria turns around and looks at Fred. She's standing in front of the window, staring at it blankly. Illyria moves towards it and puts her leather covered fingers softly against the glass. Fred slowly arches her head backwards and hangs her head, swinging it from side to side. She lifts her arms and scratches the air, as if she were grasping for something dear. Suddenly she pouts and puts her arms around herself, kneeling in front of the window and sobbing softly. Illyria turns back towards Wesley.  
  
Wes: (sharply, but softly) "She was an extraordinary woman." (smiles, biting his lower lip)  
  
Illyria: (looks back at her over her shoulder) "Yes... she was."  
  
She walks past Wesley without batting him an eye. She stops at the door.  
  
Illyria: "I will allow you grieve for her for the moment." (turns around; Wes is still staring at Fred) "You aided me when I first arrived in this world... regardless of what had come to pass beforehand. For that... I'm grateful."  
  
She turns towards the door again.  
  
Illyria: (cont.) "But you have crossed me in ways no other creature has before, human." (pauses) "You may be right about the stench of human emotion that shrouds me, but I swear by my blood this matter is not at an end."  
  
She walks out and leaves him alone in his own personal Hell. In her mind it probably suits him nicely...  
  
The following afternoon Lindsey's coming down on his elevator to his office. The doors open and as he walks out he sees Hamilton standing in front of the window.  
  
Lindsey: "What're you doing here, Marcus?"  
  
Hamilton: "It's almost six o'clock."  
  
Lindsey: "So?"  
  
Hamilton: "Oh, it's nothing." (turns around) "However... I'm wondering why is it that we're cuddling with the Watchers' enforcers?"  
  
Lindsey: (walks towards his desk) "Just fulfilling the duties in my contract."  
  
Hamilton: "Oh, yes... that fuzzy part that went around serving Wesley, if I'm not mistaken." (smiles) "I love the way you handled that, by the way."  
  
Lindsey: "Yeah... ain't it a hoot?"  
  
Hamilton: (chuckles) "Yes, I suppose it is."  
  
Lindsey: "Is that everything?"  
  
Hamilton: (breathes deeply) "Yes... that is all."  
  
Lindsey: "Well, if you don't mind, I'm kinda busy here. Your ass out that door is greatly appreciated."  
  
Hamilton: "I'm quite sure it is, Mr. McDonald."  
  
He walks towards the door.  
  
Lindsey: (perusing through the pile of files) "See you tomorrow, Marcus."  
  
Hamilton walks towards the door. As he opens it he finds himself face to face with Wesley. The stare at each other for mere seconds when Hamilton smiles and walks pass him with touching him. Wes looks at him from over his shoulder and walks inside the office. Lindsey stops and looks at him nervously.  
  
Wesley closes the door and walks over to the chairs in front of Lindsey's desk. He sits down and rubs his eyes with both hands. Lindsey drops the file he was holding on his desk and calmly sits down on his chair. He grabs a pen from his desktop organizer casually and taps it on the desk as he stares at Wesley.  
  
Wes: "What happened?"  
  
Lindsey: "Depends on what you want to know."  
  
Wes: "Why did it go wrong?"  
  
Lindsey: (pauses) "I don't know."  
  
He looks at Wes and taps the desk with his pen. He bites his lower lip and opens a case file. As he reads it, Wes looks outside.  
  
Wes: "What time is it?"  
  
Lindsey: "I'm sorry?"  
  
Wes taps his wrist.  
  
Lindsey: "Oh, it's, uh..." (looks at his wrist watch) "...it's almost six." (pauses for a second) "Why do you ask?"  
  
Wes: "Just curious."  
  
They remain quiet for a couple of seconds. Lindsey observes Wesley intently as he stares outside. He shakes his head slightly and looks back to his file, as Wesley immerses himself into the crystal mountains outside.  
  
As the night slowly creeps in, Spike enters the rooftop of Wolfram & Hart. He walks around for a bit and then notices Illyria crouched on the ledge at the farthest corner from the roof's entrance. He smiles casually and calmly approaches her.  
  
Spike: "Hey, Blue."  
  
Illyria looks at him from over her shoulder. She remains unpleasantly quiet.  
  
Spike: (stands beside her) "Heard you talked to Wes."  
  
Illyria: (quietly) "Yes."  
  
Spike: (sighs) "How're you feeling?"  
  
Illyria: "I..." (pauses) "Angry."  
  
Spike looks at her intently, yet compassionately.  
  
Illyria: "My whole life I have never experienced such emotions. I feel like I have been burned on a pyre and left for the crows to peck at my eyes by those whom I regard. I feel inclined to reduce his existence to ashes." (pauses) "Yet I can't seem to force my arm to exact his comeuppance... I am not pleased by this. It burns me from inside..." (softly) "...and I have no control over it."  
  
Spike: (breathes deeply) "I can bring you some Maalox if you want."  
  
Illyria: "That is not required."  
  
Spike: (smiles sincerely and chuckles softly) "That was a joke."  
  
Illyria looks at him dubiously.  
  
Spike: (cont.) "Look, so you fell for the one person you can't have. Big deal." (sits beside her) "Who here hasn't already anyhow?"  
  
He smiles at her. She looks intently at him and slowly lowers her head. She looks at the buildings in front of her as her body processes the information that was just given to her. Spike takes out a carton of cigs and as he taps the box he looks forward and sees Hamilton standing right in front of the stairwell's entrance at the other side of the roof.  
  
He drops the box and Illyria looks at him then, following his gaze, looks at Hamilton as he slowly marches towards them.  
  
Spike: (eyes fixed on Hamilton; quietly) "Hold it."  
  
Illyria turns around and stands up on the ledge.  
  
Hamilton: (pacing himself towards them) "Good evening."  
  
Spike: "Came up for a smoke?" (bends over and grabs the box from the floor)  
  
Hamilton: "More or less."  
  
Spike: (sarcastically) "Why do I take it this is not gonna end pretty?"  
  
Hamilton: (mockingly) "Chalk it up to your genius mind, Blondie Bear."  
  
Spike: (calmly) "I don't want any problems, Hamilton. Just here for the view."  
  
Hamilton: "I'm sure you are. I hear it's nicer when it's flying past you as you're chasing the floor with your chin, though." (smiles casually) "Of course that's just a rumor... I wouldn't know myself."  
  
Spike: "I don't doubt it."  
  
Spike stands up. He looks at Hamilton as he stops three feet away from him. They stare each other down, while Illyria remains still in her position. Then in the blink of an eye Spike runs his fist against Marcus' face. Hamilton remains unfazed by the powerful attack and grabs Spike by the throat. Illyria jumps at him but Hamilton sidesteps and grabs hold of her hair.  
  
He pulls her head back and Illyria begins to shake violently from the intense pain being inflicted on her injured neck. Spike punches Marcus in the face repeatedly in a desperate attempt to get himself loose from his grip to no avail. Hamilton knocks Illyria's head against the concrete ledge, shattering it in the process. Illyria begins convulsing as blood comes out of her nose, mouth and cranium. Spike screams in pure rage and kicks him with all his strength between his legs.  
  
Hamilton cringes from the force of the attack and launches Spike several yards from where he stood. Hamilton stares at him as he falls face-first against the pavement, then turns towards Illyria. He crouches beside her and grabs hold of her with both hands, lifting her up to her feet. He moves her towards the edge of the building and holds her from it.  
  
Hamilton: "What's the matter, King? Lost your spine? Cause, honestly? You fight like a girl."  
  
As the words fly out of his mouth Hamilton punches Illyria, turning her completely around and forcing her to hold on to the ledge. He steps back and kicks her, pushing her frail looking body through the concrete, thirty stories at an incredible speed. Illyria crashes down into the streets below, where a speeding Corolla skids and smashes against her.  
  
Hamilton is taken a bit aback as he sees the pile-up that forms from the initial crash. Yet just as he turns around towards Spike, his black colored boots slam against his face. Marcus steps back just as Spike moves against him. He grabs Hamilton's jacket and reels him close to him when he feels a sharp pain in chest.  
  
His eyes well up, his hands begin to shake and as he looks down on his shirt he sees Hamilton's fingers penetrating his chest. Blood splatters from his chest as Marcus continues to push his fingers through his sternum, cracking it slowly. Spike's body becomes numb. His mouth drips with his blood as he feels Marcus' hands lift him from his feet.  
  
He feels his breath in his face as he holds him close. Hamilton scoffs at his adversary and throws him of the ledge. Spike's body falls down the mountain of glass and stone rolling through the air. He falls flat on top of a parked sedan just a few steps from the building's underground parking lot's entrance. Hamilton looks down and smiles in satisfaction, then turns around rearranging his suit when he sees Wes and Lindsey standing just a few meters away from him. His eyes blink as he sees the glint of Wes' gun clasped between his fingers. He looks at them and breathes deeply. It's going to be a long night...  
  
-- Fin.


	21. The way we are

_**Author's Note:**_

_Okay, ladies and gentlemen, here it is: the final chapter of 'Wolves'. It has been a long, strange journey, but it must come to an end. The story picks up right where we left off and just like I had stressed in my last note, it's bloody and will have all of you cursing my name._

_I already started preparing the epliogue for this story, and can't hardly hold my enthusiasm for 'Redefinition'... the next and final chapter of this three-part odyssey. It's going to be an interesting turn of events for every character in Whedonverse, as they're all going to be put through major trials and tribulations, so don't leave now._

_I have to thank in particular three people that have been greatly supportive through the writing of this tale and those are Aeryn's Tales, L-Fire, angelicGrace and Angel's Girl. You have been there for me when the muses abandoned me and stuck with this little tale and supported it through it all. For that I thank you. I hope to see you for the rest of it._

_Now, without further ado... here's the conclusion of 'Wolves'. Hope you like it... it's certainly been a treat to write._

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Chapter XXI: The way we are.  
  
He smells the air. It's saltier than usual. He wonders if it has any meaning.  
  
He takes a few steps towards them and then stops. He puts his hand inside his jacket and takes out a cell-phone. He opens the lid and presses the "Send" button on the dial pad. Then putting it over his right ear, he looks away as he waits for a response.  
  
Hamilton: (answering) "Yes. Clean sweep."  
  
He closes the lid of his phone, then looks back at Lindsey and Wes as he puts it back inside his jacket. He fixes his tie as he twists his neck around.  
  
Hamilton: "I must apologize for that. It's just procedure." (smiles) "You understand, don't you Lindsey?"  
  
He closes his fists, cracking his knuckles in the process. As he opens his hands they can see a smidge of blood coming out of his nails and a dark colored gem encrusted in the palm of his hands.  
  
Hamilton: "Now... where were we?"  
  
Lindsey: "I don't know. You tell me."  
  
Hamilton: "Hmm, I believe you're asking the wrong person."  
  
Wes looks back at Lindsey. He puts his gun inside his jacket and produces a dark-silver colored sphere from his jacket's left outside pocket. He takes the sphere and throws it in the direction of Hamilton, and much to Lindsey's dismay, he catches with both hands and crushes it.  
  
The explosion produces a large almost invisible wave that retracts as soon as it is being released. A light glow of blue energy flows from Wesley and into the black hole the artifact produced after its destruction. Lindsey looks at Wes then at Hamilton confused.  
  
Lindsey: "What going on?"  
  
Then, as if in response to his query, an engulfing shriek of anger is heard in the distance. His palms suddenly sweat from the panic. He takes several steps back towards the stairwell's entrance and looks at Wes. He recognizes the dreadful scream.  
  
Wes: (breathes deeply) "He's coming."  
  
Hamilton: (looking at his wrist watch) "And right on cue."  
  
Wes: "Yes."  
  
He turns back towards Lindsey.  
  
Lindsey: (angry) "What's going on?"  
  
Wes: (looks back at Hamilton) "You wouldn't understand."  
  
Lindsey: "Understand what?" (pauses) "You're working with him?"  
  
Wes: "Among other things."  
  
Lindsey: "What the hell's going on?"  
  
Wes: (pulls out his gun against him) "Are you seriously that mentally incompetent?"  
  
Lindsey steps back a few steps.  
  
Wes: (smiles) "Power, Lindsey. Control over circumstance. That's what I want... and that's what you wanted too." (pauses) "Does it sound familiar?"  
  
Lindsey: "What're you talking about?"  
  
Wes: "The reason you came here."  
  
Lindsey ponders quietly on those words but can't seem to understand what he's saying.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "Oh, right... the Senior Partners locked the information of them in your memory banks." (scoffs) "As convenient as it is, I think it was a waste of time."  
  
Lindsey: (agitated) "I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
Hamilton: (walks up behind Wes) "I'm sorry, but we have to get this underway... they're waiting for acknowledgement that it's done, sir."  
  
Wes looks back at Lindsey and takes out a leather bag from inside his jacket. He walks over to Lindsey, pouring its dust-like contents into the palm of hand, and blows it on his face. The dust flows into his nostrils like the waters of a river into the great blue sea. Lindsey takes a step back sneezing from inhaling it, when it hits him like a shotgun blast to his head. He falls to the ground, shaking in pain as everything comes rushing back in.  
  
He opens his eyes and struggles to stand up. He puts his mouth to his face and notices blood coming out of his nostrils. He looks at Wes and he's just staring at him with his hands in his pockets.  
  
Wes: "Are you done?"  
  
Lindsey: (breathing hard) "The Circle... you bastard... you're trying to get in, are you?"  
  
Wes doesn't respond. Lindsey pushes himself to his feet.  
  
Lindsey: (cont.) "That's why you did this? Spike, Illyria... Fred... what about them?"  
  
Wes remains silent.  
  
Lindsey: "What else did you do? Did you kill Angel too?"  
  
Wes: "No... but I did order the mutilation of you girlfriend."  
  
The shock and rage caused by these last words are enough to push Lindsey towards him but before he can even touch him, Wes raises his gun and points it in the direction of Lindsey's trachea, leaving him at arms length.  
  
Lindsey: (calms down) "That's why he's coming here, isn't it? You're the reason he was brought here."  
  
Wes: "That I am."  
  
Lindsey: "How did you--?"  
  
Wes: "That little bauble that Hamilton just shattered is a very rare and powerful object used to cloak its wielder from whatever it is he desires. I used it to shield my motives. The Arathma'aet knows and feels that the scales have been tipped... it just didn't know who was it that did it."  
  
Lindsey: (under his breath) "Till now."  
  
Wes: "Yes."  
  
Lindsey: (remains quiet for a while) "He's gonna kill you."  
  
Wes: "Perhaps."  
  
Lindsey: "What about Hamilton?"  
  
Wes: (looks back at Hamilton over his shoulder) "He follows orders... he understands what I'm doing."  
  
Lindsey: "W-What about me?"  
  
Wes: (smiles) "Haven't decided yet."  
  
Lindsey: (scoffs) "So I take it those midnight suppers at the diner could really come in handy here?"  
  
Wes: "Doubtful... I paid for most of them myself."  
  
At that very moment the wind blows hard causing Lindsey to lose his balance. He looks behind Hamilton and sees a shadow crouched on the very ledge where Illyria and Spike had stood moments before. He fixes his gaze on the creature and takes a step back. He feels his heart pump harder than ever before. He looks at it and fears for the worst.  
  
Wes turns around and in the blink of an eye Norin jumps straight at him, sword in hand. Wes takes a step back as it draws near his position, when a fist collides with its face. The Arthma'aet falls flat on the ground astonished by what had overcome it. Hamilton walks over to it and grabs it by the neck, lifting it off the ground and kicking the sword away from it. He crushes its neck within his grasp when his hands and forearm begin to gleam. Norin rattles himself trying to escape from his hold, but Hamilton's strength proves to be superior.  
  
He drops him to the ground in a weakened state. Norin attempts to crawl away towards his sword, dragging its body as it wimpers in pain, but as it reaches for its weapon Hamilton stomps on his hand. He kicks Norin's ribs as it tries to stand up, leaving it entirely defenseless. Marcus grabs it by its arms and drags it to its feet once more, then repeatedly punches its stomach. The Arathma'aet blocks one of his blows, when it's knocked back by a fist to its face.  
  
It tumbles back several steps trying to regain its bearings, when Hamilton approaches it again. The creature grits its teeth and prepares to launch itself against Marcus when he stops. From behind him, Wesley walks over to it. He extends his arm over it and his eyes turn dark.  
  
Wes: "Incinerare."  
  
As soon as the words come out of his lips the Arathma'aet bursts into flames. It twists and turns violently in pain, but slowly withers. As it dies, Hamilton steps back and Wes closes his hand. The flames are extinguished leaving a dark skeleton emitting smoke and ashes. Hamilton looks at it with certain disgust and wipes his hands as he walks away.  
  
Lindsey witnesses the event and, with a resolve of survival, he takes out his pocket knife and morphs it into a broadsword. Wes turns around as Lindsey hammers his sword against him. He dodges in shock and drops his gun, just as Lindsey charges at him again swinging his weapon in full force.  
  
The attack fails as Hamilton intercepts Lindsey with a tackle. Then, without allowing the prodigal lawyer to hit the ground, he hammers Lindsey repeatedly in his stomach. Blood pours out of his mouth with every blow he takes. Marcus slams his fist against his face and cracks his nose. Numbed by the attack, Lindsey begins falling to the ground. Hamilton grabs him by his shirt and pulls him close, then punches his face again.  
  
Wes: "That's enough."  
  
Hamilton looks over to Wes then drops Lindsey just as he was about to ram his face with his fist. Lindsey falls to the ground beaten and bloodied as Wes picks up his gun from the floor.  
  
He walks up to Lindsey and taps Hamilton on the shoulder.  
  
Lindsey: (coughing and chuckling) "Is this what you want?"  
  
Wes: (breathes deeply) "So it seems."  
  
Lindsey looks at the burnt corpse.  
  
Lindsey: "I hate you... I fu--" (coughs)  
  
Wes: "Yes well, I didn't expect to win any popularity contests after this debacle. Least of all with you."  
  
Lindsey struggles to his feet.  
  
Wes: (cont.) "Thanks for the coffee at the hospital."  
  
Lindsey: (voice breaks) "You're not gonna let me beg, are you?"  
  
He puts his gun to his forehead and pulls the trigger. His face turns pale as blood pours between his eyes and into his mouth. His arms fall flat beside him and his knees begin to tremble. Lindsey tumbles to the floor right at his feet. Wes looks at him, then holsters his gun inside his jacket.  
  
Wes: "No."  
  
-- The End. . .


	22. Epilogue

Epilogue:  
  
He walks inside his apartment and locks the door behind. He stops to reflect and looks around the living room. He takes a deep breath and walks towards the kitchen. He stops and looks outside his window then proceeds calmly into his bedroom.  
  
He opens his closet doors and pulls out a box from the back. He takes it to his bed and sits down on it. As he opens it, he takes the lid and puts it beside him on the mattress. He takes out a small digital, recording camera and opens it. After viewing his recordings he deletes its contents and walks out of the room. He takes the camera to his armchair and sits down. He puts it open on the table and fiddles with it, trying to get it poised in the right angle.  
  
After noticing that the height is to low, he stands up and walks to the nearby book shelf and picks out Dante's 'Divine Comedy'. He stares, deep in thought, at the book as memories flood his mind. He walks back to the armchair and sits down, putting the camera over the book to give it height. He twists the lens while looking at himself on the screen, then presses the "Record" button and leans back straight on his seat.  
  
Wes: (to the camera) "I, um, ahem I suppose I should... explain... everything." (pauses) "I can't. As much as I want to, I can't. There's not much time before I have to go." (pauses) "So... I can't."  
  
He takes a moment and rubs his eyes with both hands and takes a deep breath.  
  
Wes: "I only hope that you can forgive me... for what I'm going to do. I wish I could tell you now before it... ahem but I can't... I'm sorry." (pauses, then to himself in a whisper) "God, I wish I could--" (looks at the camera) "I, uh, ahem want you to take care of yourself. No matter what you do be careful. You're the only one I trust... you have earned that."  
  
He takes another deep breath and looks straight into the camera for several seconds in complete silence. He bites his lips and arches his back.  
  
Wes: "By the time you get this you won't be able to contact me. I'll have moved on." (pauses) "I'll contact you when the time is right... till then it's doubtful that we'll see each other." (pauses) "I'm sending you the time and place we'll meet along with this. I'll be there... I just... I just hope you'll be there as well."  
  
He looks over the camera and through the windows, then takes off his wrist watch and holds it in his hand.  
  
Wes: "That is all. I trust you'll keep this to yourself." (takes a five second pause, then looking away from the camera) "Take care of her. That's all I ask. She'll mend in time, but she'll need a place to rest."  
  
He puts his hand over the camera and it stops filming. He picks it up and walks towards the dinner table. He puts it in a brown mailing-box and takes a look at his watch. He puts it inside the box beside the camcorder and closes it. He seals the box then reads the label. After a quick draw of fresh air, he walks back towards the door of his apartment and opens it.  
  
He takes a final look around, then turns off the lights with the nearby light-switch. He turns around and walks out. Never to be seen by those walls again. . . 


End file.
